Looking at photos from the early 1990s, when we first visited the West Indies, I detect a clear change in the way people dress. Particularly when you look at the footwear! Below is a photo of our family and our very good friends, the Lindqvists, in Philipsburg Sint Maarten. Everybody wears proper sailor’s shoes. No cheap plastic crocs, frogs or flippers in those days (remember, you can click on the image to see a larger version).
Archive for the ‘Cultures’ Category
No Crocs, Frogs or Flippers
Sunday, November 24th, 2013I’m Fuckin’ Retired!
Sunday, November 17th, 2013I could certainly not imagine, 21 years ago, when we arrived in the West Indies the first time, that I would meet retirement in these islands.
I’m not one who normally advertises his birthday, but as we are presently crusing down Memory Lane (see report here) more than two decades since our cruising lifestyle started, I am experiencing some emotional moments. As 63 years is the age when one can retire in Finland, I guess I am now officially retired. Although I prefer to use the expression ‘senior citizen’ instead – it sounds a lot more distinguished.
Actually, I wasn’t at first quite sure what it is I’m retiring from, having been a sail bum for twenty plus years. But then I realised that, now that we have decided to swallow the hook and sell the yacht, I am actually retiring from cruising.
I realize that things could be worse; some people wont go cruising until they get retired. At the age of 42 I decided to live the cruising life because I had no guarantees I would ever reach retirement age.
However, until the boat is sold I guess I will continue the life as a soon retiring sail bum.
Do not have too much fun – not on my steps
Saturday, November 9th, 2013Some proprietors are obsessed with signs. I have commented about signs a couple of times before in this blog, but recently in Chaguaramas I found one of the worst examples. At the docks of a boatyard called Powerboats there is a small building, convenience store, where most walls are covered with restrictive signs.
I couldn’t understand the reason for all these signs, but I guess every proprietor has the right to decide what people are allowed to do on his premises. Or maybe this one just happens to have a sign-maker son in law. Neverteless, although I know the meaning of fishing, sitting, loitering, parking and so on, I wasn’t sure what liming is. And, as I didn’t want to break the rules I went in and asked what I should refrain from doing.
The girl at the check out explained that it means “having fun”. I found this surprising as I had been given the impression that Tribagonians loved to have fun. Yes, she said, but the sign says that you can not have too much fun here!
The Bar of Destruction
Monday, October 21st, 2013We are now on Island Time (IT) and therefore most of my days are spent waiting contractors who will not show up. I should be used to this after practicing during 20 years in numerous countries. However, it takes some time to adjust having just spent 6 months working 10 hours a day, 7 days a week on our house project back home. We had planned to launch the yacht next Thursday, 3 days from now, but I’m pretty sure this schedule is too ambitious. Fortunately we are not in a hurry; our next appointment is on November 27, when we need to be in Martinique, where our son Jens and grandson Rasmus are expected to join us for a couple of weeks.
Today Island Time became slower than usual because it happens to be an Election Day in Trinidad & Tobago. Not only did time slow down, also the menu is restricted. There is a ban on the sale of alcohol all over the place, in stores as well as in restaurants. I have no problems staying a day or without my regular lunch beer, but, starting to ponder about the ban I find it quite strange that legislators in some locations still, in the 21st century, find it necessary to ban alcohol during elections. As if the outcome of the election would be any different without a ban.
We have come across this ban a few times, the last I can remember was in Thailand and once it happened in Charleston, South Carolina, during the Presidential elections in 2004.
This ban is a clear anachronism of the law, at least in the USA, where the ban on alcohol sales during polling hours was a response to a well-established tradition in some areas, buying votes with liquor. Back then, in the 19th century, it wasn’t unusual for saloons, often the largest buildings in town, to double as polling places. Corrupt politicians did whatever they could to make voters happy. This “tradition” is probably long gone by now, but apparently two states still have the ban in place. One of them is indeed South Carolina and the other one is, surprisingly or not, Kentucky, where alcohol is a big business. In Kentucky, however, there is some logic applied as the ban is lifted at 6pm when the polls close. In South Carolina the ban stays on the whole day.
The bar of destruction
Cartoon from 1874 by Thomas Nast
Source: harpweek.com
I have no idea why the Trinbagonians need an alcohol ban during elections, but the ban apparently concerns everybody. I received no sympathy at the restaurant when I tried to convince them that they could sell me a beer because as a foreigner, I am not allowed to vote anyway.
Maybe booze for ballots is still considered a risk in T&T.
The Longest Day – Christmas Memories
Monday, December 24th, 2012In Scandinavia, the most important moment of Christmas takes place around 18:00 on Christmas Eve, at least if you ask the children. This is usually the time Santa arrives and all the presents are delivered. In the rest of the world they have to wait until the morning of Christmas Day, December 25th, as Santa cannot be everywhere at the same time.
The day of Christmas Eve is the longest day of the year; you can ask anybody who has been a child in Scandinavia. It feels like it will never be evening, the time passes very slowly and you are likely suffering from a stomach disease. As a pastime our parents brought us along delivering flowers and gifts to friends and relatives and lighting candles on of the graves of our ancestors. Usually, as I remember, there used to be a lot of snow.
As a tradition, in our family, most Christmas Eves were celebrated at the home of my grandparents together with our cousins. Therefore, when all were present, there were quite a lot of people, 8 adults and 7 children. Usually the children were seated at a separate table, which was a relief, as in those days, if seated at the same table as the adults; children were not expected to speak if they weren’t expressly addressed by an adult.
When dinner was finally finished, everybody gathered in the drawing-room, except my father, who suddenly remembered that he had forgotten to lock the car. Unlucky for him, but Santa Claus happened to arrive when he was away. I think my father never met Santa during all those years.
Christmas Eve 1961 – dress code: tuxedo
My grandmother was famous for giving great presents in generous amounts. I later learned that she used to buy them all year around, every time she happened to find something she thought would be a great Christmas gift. However, she tried to treat all children equally, and therefore the boys often got identical presents as did the girls. So when my cousins had unwrapped their Meccano sets, I instantly knew what was inside the same size parcel that had my name on it.
This photo is from around 1960 or 1961. Cousin Micce and I have just received those Meccano sets. But take a look at the style of our clothing, even for kids. Jacket and tie – and still buttoned although the party must have gone on for several hours already. Micce was probably only 7 years old and I must have been 11. They don’t make kids like this anymore, ha-ha. But Micce, those brown shoes …
Signs Are Us
Monday, March 19th, 2012People communicate by signs. The sign boards are usually displaying either commercial advertising or communal restrictions and warnings, the latter category often religiously related. Having spent the past 3 years mainly in countries with a major Islamic influence we have often seen signs like the one below. We usually do not choose this kind of establishments if there is a choice, like on the second photo. That sign almost made us drop the hook immediately (you may have to click on the photo to read the sign).
Recently we climbed Sigiraiya, the Lion Rock, in Sri Lanka (see report) and there was a sign displaying a ban on entering with liquor which, I suppose, referred to all alcohol (below). A cold beer would have been very welcome after the 1,200 steps to reach the top, but the only sign we could find up there was a warning that “going down is dangerous” (second one below). Well, be as it may, staying on the top without beer wasn’t an option either, so we quickly ascended the rock, almost seing mirages of ice cold beer on the horizon. Imagine our disappointment when, after finding a five star restaurant, they told us that it was impossible to buy beer anywhere that day in Sri Lanka – because of Full Moon Day! And this isn’t even a Muslim country and this time there was no warning sign.
Corruption among persons in authority at the port of Galle is rumoured to be rampant and we had some experiences ourselves. There is a warning sign posted at the gate, informing that asking for and offering bribes are criminal offences (below). It must have been a politician who had that sign installed. Politicians usually come up with ideas which have no relevance in resolving problems they address, but give them a chance to claim that they have done something. The second photo below displays what a Lankan tuk tuk-driver thinks about politicians.
Some signs are completely useless. Or what do you think about the advice on how to react if attacked by wasps (below). An equally stupid sign is the (presumably) restricted parking. But maybe the restriction doesn’t apply to foreigners.
Sometimes the warning signs are addressed to a particularly broad public. I bet the monkeys crossing the road at this particular spot in Malaysia are extremely grateful for being warned about vehicles.
Political Unrest and Routing Decisions
Wednesday, February 15th, 2012A year ago our plan to sail across the Arabian Sea to the Mediterranean was aborted because of the pirates. Now, just as we prepare to leave Thailand to sail to South Africa via the Maldives, there is political unrest in the atoll country. The democratically elected president has been forced to resign and protesters are burning police stations.
(We can see you, but you wont see us)
Read more ..
Getting Proper Screwed – again
Sunday, December 11th, 2011When you are a long term cruiser, and regularly find yourself in a new country, with a language you don’t understand and cultures, habits, politics and religions different from your own and previous countries you have visited, it is likely that, sooner or later, you will make a fool of yourself when it comes to money stuff – no matter how smart you try to be.
This has happened to me many times in many countries. We have now been visiting more than 80 countries on our yacht during 20 years. Each time I get screwed, I tell myself: OK, they will not get me on this scam next time. And of course they won’t, because I have learned from my mistake. Problem is; there will be a new plot next time in the next country.
Last month, here in Thailand, I decided to send my old wind generator on a factory over haul to England. I was advised, by a local contractor (in good faith as far as I can determine) to use a shipping agent and go for a “repair and return” procedure. Doing so I would only have to pay import charges, on the return, based on the cost of the repair plus return shipping costs.
At the end the project turned out to be a big mistake, something that the agent must have realized from the start and she should have advised me to just ship the unit in a regular way without the “repair and return” hassle.
First, I ended up paying, in government charges and the agent’s fees an amount equal to about 130% of the value (on the repair plus TNT return shipping). I would call this confiscation!
Second, the return shipment took more than two weeks as there was so much paper work included AND the package had to be routed via Bangkok (because of the “repair and return” scheme). When I received the invoice there were 22 attachments stapled to it!
In comparison: I have ordered marine products four times to be sent here to Thailand (from both the EU and the USA), deck hardware, winches, electronics, and they arrived directly to Phuket within 3 working days and generated only 10-15% import charges.
This is only a fragment of the sad story about the wind generator in question. The whole picture will be revealed in a later story called: The World’s Most Expensive Electricity. Stay tuned.
The Parking Blues
Sunday, November 20th, 2011During the past 12 months we have lived 5 months in an apartment at Boat Lagoon Resort while Scorpio has been subject to a major refit. It is very convenient because the boat stands on the hard only 200 metres away. We decided, however, that having a car permanently is necessary because I constantly have to hunt for parts and other stuff all over Phuket.
This is where it gets interesting. Parking here in Boat Lagoon is a difficult subject. At street level the resort’s buildings are occupied by various stores and offices. In front of these is a row of parking spots under the buildings, protected from sun and rain. Half of them are reserved for commercial use and the rest for the hotel’s guests.
Unfortunately, the shopkeepers have little respect for this arrangement. Many of them have a habit of parking in the hotel guests spots because that provides them with more spaces as they can use their own spots also. Often, if I managed to occupy a vacant guest spot, the people of the store facing that spot gave me a sour look. Sometimes they even claimed that the spot was reserved for their business – although every guest spot is clearly indicated by a sign.
Some businesses, like this tour operator (photo above), have put out chairs and tables in the guest spots outside their premises – right under the sign “Parking for hotel guests only”. Others use the spot as a work shop for carpentering, painting etc.
Having been constantly kicked in my ass because of my parking for a couple of months I went to talk to the hotel manager. She kindly decided to give me a designated spot and put up a sign with my register number indicating that this particular spot was reserved for my car only. However, I was not surprised when, during the next days, this spot was almost always taken by other cars. I tried to improve the sign by writing on it in English with a red felt pen: RESERVED – to no avail. Finally, one day when I had to find another spot some distance away, with a lot of stuff to carry, I put a note under the windshield wiper of the car that happened to be parked in my spot that day.
Are you blind, or ignorant or just plain stupid? You are parking in a reserved spot!
Next morning I found a note under my own wiper. There were no words, just a drawing. And it didn’t illustrate just the middle finger but the real thing, I guess. Whoever the poorly talented artist was, he had also torn down my parking sign and stuffed that too under my wiper.
I decided to look at the incident with humour. The resort’s manager, however, put up a new more impressive sign, including the logo and name of Boat Lagoon Resort.
The situation has now improved somewhat. Maybe word has gotten around that I am a problem, who knows, and there may be some respect for me in the area now. But at least half of the time now, my parking space is available for me.
Nonetheless, very soon we had to change the reserved-sign one more time because my rented car broke down and therefore the sign didn’t match the number of my new car.
If it is not one it is the other, said the girl bleeding from her nose.
On the other hand, having myself fined and my new car clamped in my own parking spot would have provided for an even funnier ending of this story.
True Finns vs. Finland-Swedes
Wednesday, April 20th, 2011The above became head-line news all over the globe. I’m not too concerned about Portugals finances. But I’m amazed that a populist political party gets this response in Finland, even though they want to get rid of much of the nation’s identity.
Fellow cruisers have often wondered why I speak Swedish although I am from Finland. Suddenly, I had an urge to tell you more about it.
The story turned out a bit too long for this on-line blog, which should be for shorter bursts, so I put it on the off-line blog, read the full story …