Showing posts with label manual labor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label manual labor. Show all posts

Friday, December 17, 2010

Grenada Marine Boat Yard: A Painful Experience

Our return to Grenada on December 5th 2010 wasn’t in the least bit fun or comfortable. Not only were we extremely sad to return without Darwin, but the plane arrived with a delay and Mark and I were the last ones off and, consequently, through immigration. Luckily, our cab driver Mandoo was still around and brought us back to Irie at Grenada Marine boat yard in St. David’s. His friendliness and courtesy are always appreciated and fit the welcoming and kind attitude of most Grenadians. It was past 11pm by then and we had to cross a soggy swamp before we could board our boat with eight pieces of luggage. By the time our cockpit was cleared of dangerous lines, a loose solar panel and a friend’s outboard engine, the next day had started.


Life in a boat yard is never fun, but most of the time we manage and try to get used to the sweat on our faces and bodies, the heaps of mosquitoes, the dirt and grime, the manual labor and the busy schedule. It’s a part of boat ownership. Grenada Marine proved to be more challenging than any of the other handful of boat yards we have stayed before, however. Our friends from SV Imagine had noticed that Irie was surrounded by water and had basically been put in “a swamp with lots of frogs and mosquitoes”. Upon hearing this, we asked the yard manager to move Irie to higher and drier ground, so we could work in relative comfort for a week. Obviously, that request had been denied or never got through…


Instead, our bare feet were exposed to water and chemicals the whole time, we dragged and kicked up mud everywhere we went, the power supply was inefficient and unreliable (no air conditioning for us, let alone decent use of power tools) and the water pressure was VERY sporadic, especially when needed most. After a long day of heavy, dirty and sweaty labor, Mark and I would walk to the showers for a serious clean-up, only to find a trickle of (cold) water emerging from the shower heads and full toilet bowls with no water to flush them. The psychological pain of loosing Darwin was soon augmented by physical pain from having to squat many times a day (the wet ground did not allow us to sit or kneel in hard to reach places) and strained muscles.


Mark and I pushed through, worked around the rainstorms and managed to complete a lot of projects while on the hard. We meticulously prepped Irie’s bottom – scraping hundreds of calcium deposits (we removed the barnacles before we left in September), sanding the two hulls, washing everything down and taping the borders – before we applied a barrier coat in the worst places and painted the area 2.5 times. Mark did the same with our sail drives and we managed to fix some dinghy leaks and install a new cooling system for the fridge. That required a newly drilled hole under the waterline, a scary but successful endeavor.


After a little over a week, we needed to pay our bill. All the employees and workers in the boat yard are very friendly, but we counted on the unprofessionalism of the office staff to miscalculate the bill in our advantage. That would have made up for some of our “suffering”. The bill did come back with an error in every department. In our disadvantage, of course. It took another half an hour to set a few things straight, while Irie was hanging in the travel lift. Then, we chased the remaining frogs away, took a few fat mosquitoes with us and sailed away from St. David’s Harbour with a new looking Irie. Under the waterline anyway…

Thursday, November 26, 2009

New Pants for Irie

It’s Thursday, November 5th 2009. Irie is hanging in the slings of the Travelift at Spice Island Marine Boat Yard in Grenada. While I look at her, dangling above my head, I feel a bit nervous. Imagine something goes wrong and she falls down to the ground… That would be the end of our cruising, the end of our home, the end of many things and the beginning of a mental catastrophe. I can’t wait until she is safely settled on blocks.


Our friend Angie joins me for a few minutes and says, “Irie is looking good up there! Hopefully she stays there, unlike that other boat!’ I’m dumb founded. “What other boat?” “Haven’t you heard?” she continues “Yesterday, a sailboat fell out of the lift because one of the straps broke!” I swallow and realize the meaning of her words. The day before, the last boat of the day to be put back into the water had fallen out. She is badly damaged, but luckily nobody got injured. This day, we were the first boat to be handled by the Travelift. It could have been us… We did notice brand new straps on the machine. Experiences like this wake you up and make you see things in perspective.


We never look forward to a stay in a boat yard. It is hot, dirty and very tiring, but it has to happen. About once a year, the bottom of Irie needs some extra care and attention. Mark and I have to clean, scrape, sand and paint the two hulls and the sail drives. This year, we took our jobs very seriously and in five days time, we managed to do what was required. Right in time for our arriving guests!




During the day we needed an extra fresh water wash or two to keep going in the beating heat and headaches were a reoccurring event for me. No wind on land! Every night, the cold, clean shower was exactly what we needed and it took only seconds to fall asleep.


Doing your own work in a boat yard in the hot Caribbean teaches one the real meaning of manual labor! But, happy Irie is now “as good as new” and we hope she can stay that way for a bit. “No more lagoons for months at a time!” was her only request when she got splashed again!