Trara, trara the mail is here

The ferry from Carriacou to Grenada departs at six in the morning on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. That means getting up early. We struggle out of the bunk and walk the 100m to the ferry dock. Due to Corona, the check-in hall is closed and tickets are sold outside. On the hood of the car from the ticket seller the tickets are issued. 80XEC costs such a ticket to St. George's. That is the equivalent of 26.50€. Simply per nose of course. It is still dark outside when we board the ship. The air conditioning runs at full speed and lets us sink shivering into the seats. From still another cap sleep catch up can, with these temperatures, not the speech be. Instead, our teeth chatter continuously for just under two hours.

St. George's, Grenada

After two weeks of no activity on the tracking pages of the U.S. Postal Service and FedEx, we want to do our own research to find the urgently needed spare parts. Arriving in St. George's, the post office is located in the immediate vicinity of the ferry dock. When we reach it, the staff is streaming into the post office to start work. Shortly after 8:00am I enter the post office and stand as one of the first in line at the parcel counter. The boss of the post office appears and explains to us present that the post office opens the counters at 8:00am, but before the customs is not there, the customer service can not be started, because the storerooms are locked. So we all wait for customs to arrive at 8:15am, but then it takes another quarter of an hour to unlock the doors and open the customs counter. The opening of the customs counter is the signal for the post office to begin operations immediately. The postal worker throws his hands up in horror when he sees the American tracking number and says to me that he can't do anything with this number. We try the receiving address, but he can't find it here either. "Try again in seven days" is the answer I get. After I told him that I heard that seven days ago and that the package has been on its way from Grenada to Carriacou since January 10, he just shrugged. After I ask him for FedEx headquarters and he sends me on my way in the direction of DHL, the officer from customs intervenes and corrects the address. "Oh, yeah right, that's the direction it goes to DHL," is his excuse.

If there is a Wifi the phone rings

Arrived at FedEx, they can do something with the tracking number. However, I also only get the information I already have, namely that the package, since January 15, is in customs processing. I ask her if she doesn't find it strange that the package has now been in customs clearance for fourteen days. She responds with a counter question, asking if I have ever heard of the C14 form. "Yes I have. I even filled it out, had it stamped by Customs in Carriacou, and was assured by the Marina office that the paperwork was sent to FedEx." Slowly, the tide begins to turn. She becomes more cautious and starts making phone calls. Of course, the papers cannot be found and are requested again by the Marina office. She told me to come back in an hour, by which time the back office can get everything ready. After we have rattled off various chandlers with the shared cab, I buy the screws I need, but not with the same degree of hardness that I need. After two hours we visit our nice FedEx employee again. The back office seems to be overloaded and the few minutes of patience turn into another half hour. Now I have to go to customs and pay the fees. With a receipt and another obolus for the customs agent, they hand me my package shortly before lunch. Trara, trara the mail is there! On the question, which the agent for a achievement produced, one throws me only a pitying look. At least we now have the oil cooler and can reassemble the hydraulic system. The next challenge is to get about three liters of coppercoat. After they sanded my port keel bare in the marina and the primer on the steel rudders didn't hold, the antifouling has to be repainted. A Canadian yacht had a liter of Coppercoat left and sold it to me. However, this is not quite enough.

Grenada Marine

On the bill given to me, I found the address and we set off, by shared cab. These shared cabs are pure adventure, especially in Corona times. With 14 passengers plus driver, plus cashier the vehicles are then actually full. One sits down where free is, or also not. If you get a bad seat, you hang with one butt cheek in the air. Since it is quite warm in the vehicles, after five minutes the thighs stick to each other, which is not exactly unpleasant for some thighs, if it were not for the heat. Also, there are seats where you have to keep getting up and getting off so that the people sitting on the back rows can get off. All in all, a very sporty affair, especially since this all has to happen quite quickly. As far as driving is concerned, the Caribbeans lose their normally relaxed attitude, and as a passenger you have to hold on pretty tight so as not to give the impression that rubbing against someone else's thigh is deliberate. After all, rubbing thighs does not transmit Corona, which I think is amazing, given a vaccination rate of just 5% of the total population. But maybe it's the heat and the sweat that binds the aerosols. Or maybe it's our vaccination with AstraZeneca, which is still working. At least we don't have any symptoms that indicate a Corona infection. After a good eight kilometers, the shared cab drops us off and we walk the remaining kilometer from the main road down to the marina. Grenada Marine is located in a sheltered bay that is only open to the south. The only jetty offers few berths. In the bay itself, there are a few mooring buoys. Mainly, however, the marina consists of the many dry berths, some of which are free at the beginning of February. At first it looks as if I get the 3 liters of Coppercoat, but since the secretary is undecided about the price, the foreman comes into play because of two Coppercoat projects, I denied the 3 liters. Nevertheless, they want to order the coppercoat and send it to Carriacou. We are curious. After a trip to the south of the island, we still have a little time and take a look at St. George's.

Habour entry St. George's, Grenada

The city does not offer much and has probably specialized more in the clientele of cruisers. The center is difficult to walk through the hilly terrain and the offer is limited to cheap goods: Made in China. Around the Grenada Yacht Club, St. George's becomes more respectable, although a real charm does not arise. There are certainly more beautiful spots on the island that we want to explore next time. What we will experience next week and how our boat projects are progressing, you can read as always at www.glenswelt.com. Until then, always fair winds and keep a stiff upper lip.