Locked out
X86
Rich Carey
Sun 8 Jul 2018 05:57
16 44.046S, 151.29.24W
Nah, it'll be fine. Nah, it wasn't fine!
Yesterday we left our first stop on Raiatea, as it was scenic but rather boring. We cruised inside the roof, northwards, towards and past the main town and runway at the top of the Island. There are a few yacht charter bases (small Marina's), and we ended up outside one that's more a large workshop. Again we snagged a mooring ball, and all was good. Chance and I headed off to acquire petrol for the tender engine, to no avail - these Islands are quite car free, which is good, but mostly, and logicly, petrol station free. We will need to take the boat to town and find the only station hereabouts.
And then the SNAFU. There is only one eatery in the vicinity - mimosa - a shanty restaurant in a lean-to of someone's front garden. So we tendered into the workshop/marina and left the tender on a rocky dingy dock. Mimosa is outside, 100m up the road. The time was 18:00 and the main gate was closed, but not locked, so we opened, stepped, closed, and proceeded. A competent dinner was had - Karen and I scored 6.5's out of ten, while Chance hit an 8.5 with a most excellent pile of vegetables and noodles. Karen's order of white wine arrived in a very dark red color, and the look of horror on the owners face (just opened the bottle), meant she pretty much had to accept it as punishment for our not talking Froggy. Then things got interesting.
The gate was locked. No buzzer, no phone number, no nowt. It then occurred to us that while we had treated it as a marina, it wasn't - the staff locked up, our tender with it, and went home. Oops. We searched the perimeter to no avail, and stared at the 7 foot high solid metal gate. Nothing for it, had to scale the ramparts - well me anyway, the idea of Karen scaling a wall being beyond preposterous. So, I resolved that Chance would guard his mom, while I was the wall scaling, tender recovering hero of the hour - the second half of the plan being that I would motor down the coast a bit, and pick them up. Up I went, all sixty years of me, like an athlete of prime. I had meant the linger on the summit, to plan a route down, but instead, hovered for barely a second at the fulcrum, and fell off the other side. Like a cat I twisted in the air, and crash landed right side up, in remarkably good order, and on feet - to cries of consternation from the other side of the Great Wall of Raiatea. I braced for the scrap yard dogs to attack, but none were evident, so navigated to tender and headed off down the coast - not so easy even with small torch. Chance guided me into shore with his phone spotlight - he's a clever dude. Then it was back to boat for a celebratory beer.
Today we make another short move, across to the next Island, via hopefully a petrol stop.
All's well on x86, expecting some stronger winds next week.
Nah, it'll be fine. Nah, it wasn't fine!
Yesterday we left our first stop on Raiatea, as it was scenic but rather boring. We cruised inside the roof, northwards, towards and past the main town and runway at the top of the Island. There are a few yacht charter bases (small Marina's), and we ended up outside one that's more a large workshop. Again we snagged a mooring ball, and all was good. Chance and I headed off to acquire petrol for the tender engine, to no avail - these Islands are quite car free, which is good, but mostly, and logicly, petrol station free. We will need to take the boat to town and find the only station hereabouts.
And then the SNAFU. There is only one eatery in the vicinity - mimosa - a shanty restaurant in a lean-to of someone's front garden. So we tendered into the workshop/marina and left the tender on a rocky dingy dock. Mimosa is outside, 100m up the road. The time was 18:00 and the main gate was closed, but not locked, so we opened, stepped, closed, and proceeded. A competent dinner was had - Karen and I scored 6.5's out of ten, while Chance hit an 8.5 with a most excellent pile of vegetables and noodles. Karen's order of white wine arrived in a very dark red color, and the look of horror on the owners face (just opened the bottle), meant she pretty much had to accept it as punishment for our not talking Froggy. Then things got interesting.
The gate was locked. No buzzer, no phone number, no nowt. It then occurred to us that while we had treated it as a marina, it wasn't - the staff locked up, our tender with it, and went home. Oops. We searched the perimeter to no avail, and stared at the 7 foot high solid metal gate. Nothing for it, had to scale the ramparts - well me anyway, the idea of Karen scaling a wall being beyond preposterous. So, I resolved that Chance would guard his mom, while I was the wall scaling, tender recovering hero of the hour - the second half of the plan being that I would motor down the coast a bit, and pick them up. Up I went, all sixty years of me, like an athlete of prime. I had meant the linger on the summit, to plan a route down, but instead, hovered for barely a second at the fulcrum, and fell off the other side. Like a cat I twisted in the air, and crash landed right side up, in remarkably good order, and on feet - to cries of consternation from the other side of the Great Wall of Raiatea. I braced for the scrap yard dogs to attack, but none were evident, so navigated to tender and headed off down the coast - not so easy even with small torch. Chance guided me into shore with his phone spotlight - he's a clever dude. Then it was back to boat for a celebratory beer.
Today we make another short move, across to the next Island, via hopefully a petrol stop.
All's well on x86, expecting some stronger winds next week.
