What Do You Do with a Sailing Finster?

Quest
Jack and Hannah Ormerod and Lucia, Delphine & Fin
Sun 28 May 2017 10:38
Grenada. Prickly Bay. Last time we saw this place was just after Halloween. The bay was packed out with boat kids and cruisers. Like a living set of Waterworld. This time we cruised in quietly on a Friday morning. There was nobody around. The normally buzzing Tiki Bar; its programme of live entertainment every night, a Caribbean Butlins you could set your watch to; Sunday movie, Monday quiz night, Tuesday jazz.. etc.. this time in late May, the stage was empty. We looked around. Nodded our heads while pulling the ill-advised chin manoeuvre. Not so bad. Not bad at all. 

We were here on a mission. A black, white spot on her chest, four legged and big paws mission. Down the islands we’d received boatyard quotes for storing Quest on the magic 12 degrees latitude line. For us, no one could beat the price in Trinidad. But Trinidad was not so easy for one reason. Finster. Sure, with her diamond-priced paperwork, she could get in to the country but to organise her departure on a flight out of the main airport? With the traffic so bad, we’d heard that you only left for the airport in the early morning or the middle of the night. Trini has cheap fuel and quantities of cars to rival the French Antilles.. So this didn’t sound good.. not for organising the transport of a rather decent-sized mammal. Our thoughts went into motion. Grenada. We know Grenada. Transport to the airport is like jogging around your local park. 

We hired Bernard, the rasta-hatted taxi driver from Prickly’s fleet and went in to investigate. Like the roads, the airport was empty. We asked a lady at reception who would deal with live animal transport to the UK. ‘That would be Neckles.’ We found Neckles behind the cargo desk. He pushed back the glasses on his nose. Yes, BA would look after her. Star service. Her documents would be copied and a second set placed in the cockpit with the flight crew. The captain would monitor the temperature of the hold, the guys on the St. Lucia stopover would make sure she was ok and had enough water. 'Do you provide the crate?' we asked. Neckles shook his head. His glasses slid down his nose. ‘You gotta find the crate.’ 

Now Grenada is just about the pet-friendliest island we’ve been to. A large veterinary school sees to that. Students come from overseas to study in Grenada, adopt one of the local ‘potbound’ dogs; like a cross between a pit bull and something smaller, usually super smart, mellow dogs and take them home at the end of the year. Buy the crate, pay the airline fee and you’re off. Luckily Grenada’s one decent hardware store had seen the market potential. Crates approved for airline travel were stacked just behind the checkout. Crates were worked out by weight of the animal. We looked hard at them. Hmmm. The crate for Fin’s size seemed a little small. Fin’s not so tall but she’s long. We looked at the largest crate they had. Remembered Neckles’ firmly-delivered words; ‘BA won’t take her if the crate’s too small.’ We scooped it up, paid for it and packed it in Bernard’s van. Back to the airport? Bernard laughed. ‘Of course, man.’ 

Neckles pushed back his glasses again. He approved. How do you work out the price? ‘Weight of the crate with the animal or volumetric weight. If you get your dog, we can work it out now.’ On a firm roll, we went back to the van. ‘Bernard, can you take us back to Prickly?’ Bernard laughed again. ‘Of course, man.’ Jack got in the dinghy and went to collect Fin. She jumped into the van with happy leap and we went back to the airport. Neckles put Fin and the crate on the baggage scales. 36 kg. He took out his measuring tape and measured the crate. Typed in the formula for its volumetric weight. 84 kg. As Fin lay down, enjoying the air-con in the terminal, our mouths dropped like suitcases. Such a difference? We looked again at the crate. A small bear could make it a home. 

Neckles sent the information to London. ‘You need a water bottle that straps onto the door,’ he said, ‘so the guys in St. Lucia can top it up.’ Back to the hardware store. ‘Do you mind?’ Bernard had a glint of determination about him. ‘Let’s go.’ The hardware store had run out of those water bottles. In the meantime, we spied the medium-sized crate. The crate that weight-wise should be fine for Fin. Now we had Fin here.. She went in nervously. A good fit. I had Neckles’ volumetric formula. We borrowed measuring tape and applied it. Based on Neckles’ quote, we’d save $400 if we used this one! ‘Bernard, could you take us back to the airport?’ Bernard laughed. ‘Of course man.’ Jack went to refund the first crate. ‘You don’t get a refund for 24 hours,’ the manager said. ‘So I have to buy two?’ Jack said. She nodded and repeated his words in a Caribbean style. To make sure there’s no confusion. ‘You have to buy two.’

This time in the terminal, people were starting to queue for flights. ‘Neckles is on lunch,’ the lady at information told us without looking up from her phone. ‘Is there anyone else?’ we asked. ‘Hannibal,’ she said, ‘you need Hannibal.’ A thin Dwayne Johnson appeared. Had one look at Fin and the crate. ‘No good.’ Our legs twitched. How come? We made Fin get in again and lie down. Demonstrated her roominess before Fin, wisely smelling something foul, jumped out again. Hannibal shook his head like this happened to him at least once a day. He pulled the crate alongside Fin. ’The crate has to be longer than the animal,’ he said. ‘See? This one is the same length but not longer.’ We stared at the evidence. There was no denying it. We’d have to go back to the hardware store and get the bear crate again. Pay for it and wait while the other two crates were refunded onto Jack’s card. Ouch. 

While Bernard drove quietly, Jack steamed and I tried to make myself invisible. Fin on the other hand set her tongue to flap and stuck her head out the window. She was going home. 

Love from Quest and her crew xx