Pending my Yachtmaster certification I had a delivery BVI (British Virgin Islands) – Antigua lined up. So added to the stress I totally put on myself there was the pressure of losing my first paid gig.
Luckily I made it so early this morning I left for the airport in Antigua, going for a new adventure.
At the airport I ran into a Canadian guy (Mark) and a Brazilian guy (Eduardo). They knew eachother from their business travels and soon adopted me into their gang. It made waiting funny as hell and time passed quickly. With a little delay we got into this very small 15 seater airplane and the strong winds smashed us around as if we were made of paper. If you are afraid of flying you should definately avoid these kind of planes!
Half way through the flight Mark asks me if I have $10 cash on me because I will need it at immigration. I do not have any cash apart from Caribbean Dollars and I always figor that if I need anything there is a solution (for example an ATM when you need cash).. But no such thing here. Luckily Mark turns out the be my knight in shiny armour because just like that he gives me $20 (he didn’t have smaller). “I will find you whenever I get back to Antigua..”.
I cannot believe how nice people can be sometimes.
Luckily I didn’t realize yet that something else entirely was missing apart from cash. That I had to play every card in my book and hope for a a lot of ‘nice-ness’ from a person in uniform in usually a bad mood.
Mark and Eduardo were in transit to the Dominican Republic so I lost them right when we landed. I will see them again however, either in Antigua or possibly because they independently are looking to charter a boat with friends and are now considering me as their skipper.
At immigration a very strict and blunt officer asks me about the purpose of my visit. “I am picking up a boat to deliver to Antigua”. Without looking up but with holding out his hand he goes:
“Give me your letter of confirmation”
“Uhhhh.. It should be in my email but for that I need wifi..”
“No, you need to have it printed! I cannot stamp it if it is in you mailbox, can I?” The officer is now looking straight at me and I am starting to blush. Damn.. now what..
A vision of that movie in which Tom Hanks lives on the airport flashes before my eyes. And that was a big airport. This airport is so small, even the landing strip (of which there is only one) is no larger than 3 connected soccerfield!
With an angry face the immigration officer starts putting stamps in my passport and on my filled out immigration papers. “How long are you staying?”
“I am leaving first thing tomorrow”.
“Make sure you do that and just know you are going to have a lot of problems with port immigration if you do not show up with a PRINTED version of your confirmation letter there..”
Wow! He is letting me go!!
I smile at him and thank him extensively. The smile is not returned however, he has moved on: “NEXT”…
I soon find out that the ATM at the airport (behind immigration) is out of order. Luckily the ferry to bring me to Scrub Island does not charge anything because hoping to run into two Mark-types in 1 day would have really been pushing it..
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