Cruising or cursing?

Move towels, cushions and other crap out of the way to open the locker. Untie the empty propane tank. Move it out of the locker. Wait, no, it doesn’t want to come out. First disconnect, untie, and take out the full cylinder. Then the empty one. Then put the full one back, reconnect and tie again. Close the locker.

Get ready: hat, money, dry bag for the cell phone. Have an argument with the first mate (details to remain private in order not to embarrass her, but it had to do with propane transportation).

Step down to the swim platform, pull the dinghy closer to the boat (if it wasn’t already in the water, add about 27 steps). Load the tank, step into the dinghy (carefully, as we know it’s tippy), untie the oars, untie the painter. Row to the beach. Land. Step into ankle-deep water. Drag the dinghy several meters up the beach and tie it to a tree, since the tide is rising. Grab the tank. Follow a sandy path through a shrub forest to the main road. Enjoy a free and not exactly painless foot scrub, courtesy of the wet sand inside the Crocs.

Follow the main road under a scorching sun. When crossing the road, remember these crazy Bahamians fancy driving on the wrong side of the street. Turn right, follow a smaller road to the Bahamas Electricity Company, an uninviting and messy place (it’s a power plant, after all) with three or four small buildings. Walk to the one building with an “Office” sign on the door, although the plants around it show the door has not been opened in at least a year. Knock, hopelessly. Knock again. Try to open only to confirm it’s locked. Forget about the sign and walk half a block to another building to repeat the process against another locked door.

The Bahamas Electricity Company. Now what?

A guy shows up from nowhere. Certainly not from any of the buildings. “You want propane?” (The container must have been a dead giveaway). “Follow me.” Follow him to a structure with a big roof, where he fiddles with valves, levers and hissing hoses. Another guy shouts from the distance: “It’s not working!”. “What, this valve?”. “The whole thing. The main pump.” No propane until a spare part arrives from the capital. The first guy shrugs and apologizes: “It was working yesterday.”

Undo all of the above in reverse order.

The anchorage at Jolly Hall Beach was the closest to the propane place. No complaints regarding the scenery.

One thought on “Cruising or cursing?”

  1. Hahahaha. Reminds me of Chris and I in Turkey finally in what we thought was a classy hotel looking forward to hot showers after many days going without. Then nothing but cold water the whole time we are there. Chris goes down stairs the next day to the front desk and asked what is the problem with the hot water. the guy casually shrugs throwing out his arms and says “hot water heater go poof.” End of story: no hot showers until the next town.

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