The Barbados Visa Experience
AJAYA'S CRUISE
Phil & Nikki Hoskins
Wed 15 Apr 2009 19:10
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Our detour to Barbados was to obtain the American
Visas we needed to spend 6 months of summer out of the hurricane belt, which for
our insurers ends at 35 degrees north. Above that latitude we are insured -
below it and we are not - simple as that! Although hurricane warnings
are now very accurately predicted, and the likelihood of being in the way quite
slim, its still a risk we would not take. Besides the Chesapeake is
a highly regarded place to idle away 5-6 months and to take a break from the
tropical heat of the Caribbean. Of course we should have secured our Visas
before leaving home but it was forgotten in all the rush to clear UK waters
so Barbados was the only real option, being the only Caribbean island before the
Bahamas where we could get them. We didn't fancy calling into Nassau.
For yachtsmen there is a short circuit in
the system called a crew Visa. When we contacted the American Consulate in
Barbados before leaving Lanzarote they told us to just come straight to the
Embassy with the completed application forms filled in on-line and that we could
be fast-tracked through the system as crew. Perfect. Other applicants have to go
online to book an appointment for the 'interview' which can take
weeks.
Well, we arrived in Barbados on the Thursday and
decided to get the process underway the next day rather than wait until Monday
because we'd heard that in some cases the Visas had been issued the same day for
crew. That meant we could possibly clear Barbados by the weekend to head up to
the Virgin Islands and have some fun. But it didn't quite work out that way.
Where we were anchored in Carlisle Bay it was a
mile dinghy ride into the Careenage where it was safe to leave the dinghy for
the day (locked). The engine was playing up since the skipper had managed to
snap off the gear leaver back in Spain. However, we made it to the quay and
walked to Heroes Square where the main taxi pick-up is in Bridgetown. A US 10
dollar taxi fare found us delivered to the American Embassy in a business park
some way out of town and we marched into the Visa section with all our
paperwork.
"I'm afraid the rules for crew Visas was changed a
few weeks ago Sir" said the very large security guard in the reception office.
"But we had called by phone to confirm back in February" we said. "I'm sorry
Sir" she said. It was all going horribly wrong.
The revised rules for crew Visas were that, like
everybody else, you had to book an appointment online. We were not allowed
to do it there and then in the Embassy office. The security lady wrote down
the address of an internet cafe in a shopping centre 'close by' saying there may
be cancellations on Monday. HHmmm! A 14 dollar taxi ride later in a car
adorned with religious slogans with the radio tuned into an evangelical station
with a preacher in full 'hell and damnation' flow found us at a
shopping complex where it took half an hour to find the internet cafe - in
reality there were 3 computers at the back of a stationery shop. A further 10
dollars later and we were hooked up to the net and onto the appointment site. We
went into April - no appointments available. May - no appointments available!!
Had we just sailed 2000 miles to Barbados to wait 2 months for an appointment!
Maybe we should ring the Embassy and plead our case again. Back into the
site looking for the phone number we then noticed there were 2 appointment
calendars running. One for tourists and one for students and crew. We had looked
at the tourist calendar. This time we looked at the students and crew section
and bingo there were appointments on the following Monday. Today was Friday. So,
having booked our appointments we took a 15 dollar taxi ride back to Bridgetown
and back to the boat.
Monday found us back at the Embassy having shared
the taxi ride this time with our friends from Skyelark. Only the taxi driver
couldn't remember which estate the Embassy was on! There followed an
interesting but frustrating drive through various shanty estates on the
outskirts of Bridgetown whilst the driver figured out just where the complex
was. Needless to say his tip went west. We arrived just before the appointment
time. Being an American Embassy - and we're sure that most Embassies are the
same - security was taken extremely seriously. All electronics are locked
in cages outside the security area and all bags scanned. Phil had to remove his
belt holding his shorts up - which then meant having to hold them up manually
whilst his belt was handed to the security staff ready to be scanned for
explosive materials. "Any cellphones, cameras must go outside into the cage" the
security lady pronounced. So out to the cage with the camera. Phil (still
holding his trousers up) asked why on earth we had brought a camera into the
American Embassy in the first place. Small domestic followed on the way to
the cage outside. Our backpack was then scanned and immediately caused
some concern with the white gloved security lady who asked Nikki to remove the
batteries the from the bag. Another trip to the cage with the spare
camera batteries. "There's still somfin' in there honey - looks like a
memory stick" . Another rifle through the bag and out came the
computer memory stick with all our financial information - another
trip outside to the locked cages. Phil still standing around holing up his
shorts wondering why the memory stick was with us but not daring to ask. With
the bag and belt returned Nikki was then made to drink some of the water
in our water bottle to prove it was non harmful.
Having negotiated this phase of the procedure we
passed into the next area where the interview and payment booths were situated.
We sat down under freshly hung portraits of President Obama and Vice
President Clinton whilst a loop tape video was running close by extolling the
virtues of life in the USA. The waiting room was full of students and we rather
felt our age somewhat. (We wondered if the student whose tee-shirt bore the
slogan "Kiss My Beautiful Golden Ass" would have any trouble obtaining his
own Visa). After 10 minutes our number 137 was called and we presented our
documents to be scrutinised, which had been completed online a while back in
Lanzarote. The required passport sized photos we had produced back on the boat
in Bridgetown. Twice in fact, as the first photos we had taken with the cherry
wood bulkhead as a background was not permissible. The images had to be on
white background so we used the blank side of the North Atlantic
chart we have onboard. The rules for the photos were meticulous in detail -
top of head to bottom of chin between 28-33mm, centre of eyes to bottom of
picture no greater than 32mm. Unfortunately our first attempts did not quite
conform to these exacting standards so the ace on-board photographer set about
changing the size of the images to achieve the desired measurements. This had
the hilarious effect of completely altering our facial appearances - Nikki
looking horribly bloated from some tropical disease, skipper looking thin
and drawn akin to a Mexican bandit. So we had to retake them again and
eventually had the correct measurements without too much distortion despite
having to have the ears showing and looking vaguely like the people we
are.
At the Embassy we paid our non-refundable 262
dollars at another window and again sat down again under the Obama/Clinton
pictures to await the final procedure. The Visa Interview. We were duly called up in front of the American representative
who asked what brought us to this part of the world - "A Visa " we responded and
explained where we had sailed from and where we were going in the States. After
a couple more questions that we obviously gave the right answers to we were
told "Your Visas are approved". Was that it? At last - we'd achieved
the objective after many months of worry. However, they could not prepare them
that day and asked if we would come back the next day to collect the
passports. That was good news! So back to Bridgetown in another taxi
followed by a repeat journey back to the Embassy for the third and final time
the next day where our passports awaited with the Visas stamped (images of us
looking even more ghastly) with the essential information. A final furious taxi
ride back to the Deep Water Harbour in the 'Hell and Damnation special'
with a very unreligious demand for 20 US dollars for the fare
(re-negotiated downwards to 13US by our co-skipper) and we were ready
to clear customs and leave Bridgetown the next day.
Phew!
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