12:31.22N 070:02.56W Saturday 26th Jan 08
What an interesting day we've had.
The morning was uneventful but just as we sat down for a lunch of some Jamaican jerked chicken off the barbie, all the boat's 12v power died. This was not the usual batteries, which were good, but maybe something to do with a short in the isolator switch. Colin is an electrician by trade and we gave it our best shot but failed to fix it while bouncing around hove-to. This was somewhat serious in that we had no way to start the main engine, no way to start the generator, no navigation instruments and charts (more about this later), no radio comms, no autopilot, no radar, no depth sounder. We were thrown well back to the 19th Century in terms of sailing capabilities and we didn't even have the old salt who says "Three fathoms, sand and broken shell, Cap'n" either.
Although we had planned to go to Aruba anyway and Aruba was only about 40 miles away, we suddenly found ourselves wondering if we could actually find the place. We did have a few bits of modern technology still functional. There was a primitive hand-held GPS out of the grab-bag. Our paper charts were a bit limited, Aruba being off the official route, but the laptop still had enough power to read our electronic chips of the main system. The sat phone also still had enough power to make a call or two but it really didn't want to play (more about this later as well). As the chicken went cold on the deck table we set sail in the approximate direction of Aruba. Landfall was at night, naturally. If you ever need your bowels loosening, then approaching an unknown reef-fringed island in the dark without any navigation instruments, navigation lights or engine is the way to do it.
As we were nearing our best guess at Oranjestadt, the capital, wondering where the marina was and if we actually had the right stuff to sail into a crowded berth anyway, we had an unlit Coastguard RIB come up alongside our own unlit boat demanding that we hand over our firearms and other contraband. Getting almost no sense out of either Colin or myself they took pity on us and offered to lead us through the reefs. Them in a RIB and us sailing (note: sailing) after them. They took us to what turned out to be the cruise-ship dock where we came to rest against some tractor tyres and
concrete. Then we were thoroughly searched for the aforesaid firearms etc. Very politely too, I have to say. Later, fired up with adrenalin, Colin and I tried to head towards the sound of a loud music concert but discovered that nobody gets in or out of the cruise-ship dock without the right paperwork. A visit from Immigration and Customs has been promised for 06:00 tomorrow. Hopefully a specialist marine electrical wallah as well. The sat phone problem was found to be bits of yesterday's broken spinnaker pole being lashed across the external antenna. Now sorted, this is how you are getting to hear this sorry tale.
M