So I should caution my American friends from reading this blog. You will not like it, probably it will be best that all Americans not read this one, just skip it. There is a tirade at the end about your stupid government.
WildChild at Anchor in Barbados
__________________________________________________________
Checking in to Barbados
So if you ever decide someday to sail to Barbados, and personally I highly recommend you do not, you will see on the charts and reviews that they are pretty strict about their check-in procedure. They are very clear, you must call on VHF as you are approaching the island to get landing instructions from their port authority. You must only land your yacht in the approved designated Quarantine areas. You must have your Q flag up. You may not leave the boat by dinghy and just go to shore. You must report in immediately. Only the Captain may leave the boat. Blah blah blah…
Sounds very American but whatever. I suppose we got spoiled by the relaxed attitude of the french islands, where you have 48 hours to check in, just relax eat sleep rest and recover then come check in no worries. Barbados, it seems, does not adhere to this softer approach.
So as you read in the last blog our sail to Barbados was a beating, just 30 hours of horrible. Two nights with no sleep, little food or water, lotsa vomiting, and a night time disaster 50 miles offshore.
As you can imagine that by the time we arrived that morning we were both in pretty rough shape. I was barely functioning…. BUT… it seems we must immediately submit to the control of the island authorities, no rest for us. I see on the chart plotter that Carlisle bay seems to be the place to anchor, so we head there.
After figuring out we tore our Genny I had it furled away to protect it and we were motoring past the commercial cruise ship terminal when I hailed the port authority on VHF 16. A man with a thick hard to understand accent answered and mumbled something about go into the cruise ship terminal, I think.
I admit that I was super tired and feeling terrible so my brain was not functioning at peak performance. I had trouble understanding the instructions, both due to the poor communication skills of the man on the radio and because usually where ever the cruise ships are is super restricted and high security and small vessels are never allowed anywhere near them. So it confused me when it sounded like he said to turn into where the cruise ships are, but we complied.
A lot of confusing mumbling from the man on the radio and eventually we are tied up between two huge cruise ships at a commercial pier. What to do next is unclear. The official information is we will wait to be boarded, but there is no officials around. A random guy who helped us land said just go over to the cruise ship terminal building, yea it in there… just go there.
Ummm… ok… so I do.
Now bear in mind I have just landed from along hard painful sail. I am still wearing my pink bikini (captains uniform) and still wearing my life jacket and sailing gloves. I grab our boat papers and report immediately into the terminal building.
Well… this is a very public and very crowded building full of hundreds of well dressed well rested happy cruise ship tourists carting their splendid luggage thru the building. I was very out of place, a soggy sea rat looking bewildered. I ask an official looking man standing around where to go and he points out 3 different doors. Go to the health check-in first, then over to the customs door then to the immigration door.
Okay then.
I go knock at the first door, an old man answers and looks at me without saying a word. I explain my situation and he says okay come in. We sit down at his deck in his nice air conditioned office and begin filling out stupid paperwork. Government people everywhere just love paper. We fill out some blah blah blah papers then he wants me to fill out a crew list. Just the 2 of us so okay.
As he is doing whatever and I am sitting there trying to stop the room from swaying back and forth with the motion of the ocean stuck in my head, I am very aware that I feel physically very bad. My body is hurting terribly.
The man hands me a pen and asks me to fill out another form and my hand is shaking so badly I cannot write. I start to cry. I hurt so badly inside, I feel so terrible, my body desperately needs to recover, but this process is so strictly important to these people so I am submitting.
Men are always uncomfortable around emotions and old men, who themselves possess almost no ability to feel anything emotionally anymore, are absolutely bewildered by a woman crying, some men almost panic. This guy just quietly watches me but does not say anything. He can tell I am in rough shape yet offers no help.
Health check-in, how stupid… are you sick? do you have a cold? does anyone on the ship have a fever? Do you have the plague? Have you been around people with the plague recently? Holy crap how silly this is, but I submit.
Next door, a tall skinny local man, very quiet. More stupid paperwork. Fill out again the exact same crew list form I just filled out in triplicate with the last guy. Whatever… if it makes them happy just do it right…? Again the room is moving so badly in my head several times I suddenly reach out to brace myself from the swell against his desk. His eyebrows raise as he stares at me and I make a joke that I do not have my land legs yet, sorry about that. He has never been out sailing so has no idea what this is like for me. Again I burst into tears… I feel really bad and desperately need rest. I am far beyond exhaustion.
Forms done I am directed downstairs to the immigration office door. I knock as I had at the last 2 doors, slowly a woman in a nice clean uniform answers the door. She looks at me and asks me what do I want? My brain is reeling… what the fuck do you think I want… why else do people come to your door… what is your job…? I need to rest so badly…
I blink and try to think… keep calm and keep smiling… keep submitting to their pompus rules. I smile and explain that I am here on a small vessel and I am trying to check in as instructed. The woman flips out….!
uh ah… oh no… that’s disrespectful… she is yelling at me.. oh no.. you cannot come in here dressed like that… that is not right.. you are in a government office.. you have to dress properly.. you cannot come in here dressed like that…! Culture clash and stupid people.
In my mind I am shocked and do not understand what her reaction is all about. What the fuck do you want from me lady… I am ordered to report in IMMEDIATELY upon arrival… I am dressed for the ocean… I was not told to rest recover and change into nicer clothes first. And who the fuck cares about clothes anyway…
I stay calm, I am too tired to react to her tirade anyway, and I just explain I have been out taking a beating on the ocean for the last 30 hours, two nights with no sleep, I am exhausted. I am here reporting in IMMEDIATELY as ordered by your port controller. Sorry I was not sailing in a more splendid outfit to please you but I honestly do not intend any disrespect. I need to check in with you… what do you want from me?
She slowly calms herself down and concedes, but she warns… I better not try and sit down on one of her chairs. Now standing and submitting to filling out the exact same paperwork I have already filled out twice in triplicate I am having a very hard time holding still. As I stand over the desk with the forms on them, pen in my shaky hand, body rocking back and forth, I try hard to steady myself and concentrate on this stupid paper.
I think she can see that I am really in bad shape and she decides to graciously allow me to sit down, but only if you are not wet. I have been getting slammed in the face all night by huge salty ocean waves hammering into the cockpit but by now, i am kind of dry’ish.
After she is satisfied with her precious papers she kindly informs me that I should have just gone over to anchor in the bay and rested and came in by dinghy later when I was rested and properly dressed as most people do..! …. Oh fuck… these people…..
So it seems… that despite Barbados wanting to seem like they are very strict about their check in procedures, they really are not. They are actually a way relaxed and laid back culture, but they do stand on prim and proper British catholic culture. It seems being dressed properly was far more important to this local women than following the rules.
Whatever… We are now checked in. Free to check in and you have to pay them $50usd to check out.
____________________________________________________
Torn Sail Problems
We find the Carlisle bay anchorage and get the yacht settled in on a double anchor in the rolly bay. We just crash. Eat and sleep.
As the Captain of the vessel my Captain’s disease, as I call it, has now swung into full gear. Captain’s are ALWAYS on duty, always obsessed with the care and safety of their yachts. Part of our brains are always dedicated to this huge responsibility we always have to carry. WildChild is now injured. I have an electrical short in my mast, no wind instruments and most concerning of all… a torn Genny. Lexi no like.
I can solve the electrical problem, I am a marine electrician, I have lots of tools on the boat, I can diagnose find and repair anything to do with wires. I do not, however, have a giant commercial sewing machine on board to repair the damaged head sail. I have no idea what services for yachts are available on this island, its not very sailor friendly, and I have no internet access to find the information.
My Texan friend is of enormous help thru this process as he has been doing research for us and sending me info via my Garmin InReach sat phone. Once I got the electrical issues solved, found and fixed the short, got the wind instrument back on the NMEA bus, we just have to solve the sail problem now.
We go to shore. What is interesting, is that there is not a single dock along this shoreline. Despite the bay being full of private mooring balls and dozens of boats, there is no dock at all. No direct dinghy access to shore. So we find some beach front just on the edge of the big Hilton hotel resort and just run the dinghy up into the sand. We drag it up and lock it to a tree.
We begin exploring the land. We find an ATM to get some local money. We now need a local SIM card to get internet access. We walk around town and try to get a sense of the place. There is a very British influence to this islands culture. They drive on the left side of the road and clearly there are rules about signage and building codes. The place is clean neat and organized.
Eventually we find the local yacht club. We talk to the security guard who lets us walk inside to see the place. We can talk to someone about paying for a temporary weekly membership if we would like to use the facilities. We would love to use the facilities but this place seems snooty and expensive. We cannot afford it I’m sure.
Then… God intervenes…
Somehow we talked our way down to see the beach area, and were talking to some of the local guys who work in the yard there and it struck me… maybe they might know of the best place to get our sail repaired. So I ask.
To my amazing good fortune there is a local sailor there nearby working on something who over hears. Chris comes over introduces himself and says oh yeah… no problems… let me call my friend. Chris calls Dana, who happens to just be out sailing right now, who is the president/owner of the only sail loft on the island. Dana says sure I will be back in two hours, no problem we can fix it…! BAM… just like that the solution to this horrible problem that has been eating my guts with stress is solved.
Chris, being a real sailor, agrees to help us go get our Genny down in these strong winds and bring it back to shore so it is ready for when Dana gets back. I do not know if any of you have ever raised or lowered a big 135% Genny in strong winds before but I was doubtful us two lightweight girls would be able to handle it alone.
We were extremely grateful for Chris’s help. To boot… as we were taking it down, my hat started to blow off… I quickly reached behind my head to grab it, and punched Chris in the face. Oh goodness Chris I am so sorry about that. It was the most unfortunate accident. Eventually we get the sail down on deck and kind of rolled/folded up. With help we get it dropped into the dinghy and we make the swelly rough ride back to shore.
Dana arrives 30 minutes later, a Canadian guy who ran a sail loft in Toronto. He is of course genuine kind and very polite, after all…he is Canadian. I am so happy to be in the company of another Canadian again. I am rather anxious about this repair and Dana calmly reassures me don’t worry at all… everything will be fine. You are in good hands… no problem… I will have this fixed by tomorrow. I am so grateful that we magically fell into the most perfect solution to this problem. Dana says we are actually very fortunate, the loft closes down for the holidays in 3 days. Lucky we caught him when we did…!
Holy crap thank you Jesus… and to all my guardian angles.
Yesterday we got the sail back good as new, and this morning Elena and I managed to get it back up in the early morning calm.
WildChild is healed and ready to go again.
_________________________________________
The US embassy
Well if you have been following along you know that the Americans have been giving Elena a hard time. Here is a quick synopsis to catch you up…
It seems…
About a year ago Elena was working in Canada and decided to drive from BC up to Alaska in a car and visit. She entered America with no problems with just her passport. No issue and no problems. She wandered around Alaska for 3 weeks.
7 months ago or so Elena flew into Florida to come join WildChild in the Bahamas and she had to get and pay for an ESTA. She was allowed in to the US with no problems. (ESTA is a VISA waiver)
When we arrived by boat in Puerto Rico a month and a half ago with her valid ESTA they said oh no… she is European she needs a full B1/B2 VISA. (but what the hell is the VISA waiver for then?)
The stupid American government and their stupid stupid rules.
Now Germany is a member of the VISA waiver countries that America signed an agreement with. America agreed that Americans should be able to go to Europe without any need for a VISA and they would reciprocate. Europeans are allowed to come to visit america without any need for a VISA. That is what a VISA waiver agreement is.
BUT… Americans never live up to their own treaties or rules. As a Canadian we are constantly hearing about America breaking trade agreements with us all the time, say soft wood lumber to a Canadian and they will just roll their eyes.
This of course makes no sense what so ever. But this is how stupid the American government is. Think about how dumb Bush jr. and Trump are and understand they actually represent their people. Dumb Americans support these dumb leaders and their dumb government. But… whatever.. its their right to be dumb and make dumb rules.
So the only place in the Caribbean with a US embassy is Barbados. Thus to be able to return WildChild home we have to get Elena a US visa. In Puerto Rico Elena spent 6 hours online filling out many stupid american government forms and paid them $160usd for a VISA interview.
WildChild has been taking a beating to get down here just to get to Elena’s VISA appointment (Dec 17th at 9am) on time.
So Tuesday morning Elena and I wake up early, launch the dinghy and get it to shore, wash the sand off our feet, and begin the 5km walk to find the US embassy. Barbados is actually a really lovely place. We felt completely safe and enjoyed the sights of the city as we walked mostly uphill to the US embassy.
We arrived on time.
The US embassy of course is a highly protected fortress with very strict security protocols. We understand that. American has gone and fucked over almost every country on the planet and made lots of enemies so it is understandable they have to be cautious. We get that.
As we approach the grounds security officers stop us. We explain that Elena is here for a VISA interview. First thing they make her turn off her cell phone, which was in the backpack anyway. Then they tell her she has to leave her cell phone with me and I cannot even step foot on the embassy grounds. I am to wait outside the grounds. Elena goes in alone.
I go sit on the ground in the shade near where the taxi drivers are standing around. Beside the fence… in Barbados… outside the Embassy grounds.
I knew that this process would take a while and I knew I would have to wait a while. I had brought my laptop and decided to sit down quietly and write that last blog for you guys about that last sail.
I am on public grounds and not bothering anybody.
I get approached and harrassed 3 times by the embassy security. For no reason.
First time… excuse me ma’am… come over here… what are you writing? Show me… what are you doing..? Are you taking pictures of the US embassy? No… I stay polite and submit with a smile to this silly and completely unwarranted harassment.
Second time… excuse me ma’am… come over here… Do you have a cell phone? Show it to us… open it up… let us look thru it… where are your pictures… let us check for pictures… My cell phone was also in a dry sac inside the backpac and I had not touched it. I again submit to this stupid stupid harassment with a smile.
Third time… excuse me ma’am… come over here… Do you have a camera..? Yes… show it to us… show us the pictures on it… I had pictures of our long walk in that morning.. pictures of the KFC that had me so excited for the walk back… and I had taken a single picture of me sitting down by the fence outside the embassy grounds. They make me delete the picture.
SO STUPID…. America is so stupid… yeah… because the christian white girl is obviously a threat to the safety of the embassy…. yeah… like a picture taken outside the grounds is such a threat… like we cannot let the terrorists get their hands on a picture taken outside the grounds… way too dangerous. Like the terrorists wouldn’t just use a zoom lens and stand a hundred meters back if they wanted photos. Like they wouldn’t just use google maps.
I was no threat.. I was never any threat… I never did anything wrong at all… the US does not have a right on Barbados soil to approach or harass me at all. It was illegal. They don’t care or respect the rights of citizens in other countries at all. All in the name of their own paranoid security.
Stupid stupid Americans.
Fuck it… I am tired of getting harassed. I am sure the inside security guards have nothings better to do than stare down my top at my boobs with their high power cameras. I moved across the open business park and sat down quietly on the steps of another building to get away from the harassment. I played angry birds on my phone for a while as I continued waiting the 3 hours for Elena to come back out.
Elena entered the embassy and went where directed. She was finger printed. Then she was sent to another security zone and frisked down again. Then she was told to stand over there for 40 minutes. Then told to move and sit over there for 50 minutes. Then she was finger printed again. Then finally 3 hours later she was finally called up to the interviewer agents window.
Elena had all her paperwork filled out properly and she politely answered the few questions the officer asked. Elena is a shy girl and very sweet gentle and soft spoken if you have ever met her. Then abruptly the agent just said NO..! just like that. Handed Elena yellow piece of paper with no explanation and she was ushered out of the building.
When Elena found me in the parking lot she was in shock and in tears. I hugged her and she cried for a while before she could tell me what happened. She has traveled all over the world and has never been denied a VISA before. She has already entered the US twice without problem. She is allowed to enter the US on a commercial transport like a plane or a ferry… but somehow it is too dangerous for the US to let her enter via private boat… ?
Denying the VISA just makes no sense.
BUT… we are screwed.
This changes everything.
If you look over on the Route tab… and scroll down… you will see our plan to bring WildChild home by the end of next summer.
This is no longer possible.
We have no idea what to do now.
To sail back to Canada and skip all the way over the US coast is like a 20 day sail in the North Atlantic thru truly nasty horrifying storms, like 50-60 knot winds and 20-30 foot waves. There is no way I am going to risk our lives for this boat in those conditions. There is no reasonable way to get WildChild home anymore.
America arbitrarily denying the VISA like that has really screwed us both over. This is so stupid.
We are now completely lost. Much crying. Much frustration. No direction now. No idea what to do next.
To be honest… I am starting to get sick of America.
Living in Canada a simple 20 minute drive from the border I never crossed over into America before. Never felt the need to. Canada is a much nicer better safer country than America. We have a much higher standard of living and far nicer people.
I have met many wonderful and kind American people. I was planning to someday drive and see the grand Canyon and other sights in America.
But now… i am thinking I am getting rather tired of their police state… (I have not told all the stories but I have been stopped like 7 times now in America by law enforcement for no particular reason other than harassment… I have only been stopped by police 3 times in my whole life in Canada) their crazy rules that make no sense… their just retarded government.
America makes me tired… I just wanna go home.
Cheers Sailor fans
. Captain Lexi
. …. the highly discouraged…