Back in the U.S. of A.

Our task for the day:  Get legal.  For the past four years we have, mostly unbeknownst to ourselves, been in the States illegally.  Not us, exactly.  Our boat.  The rules are a little, well, "grey" and each State had been applying them their own way. The Northern States were doing things differently than some of the Southern States.

When we crossed the border in Drummond Island, Michigan, back in 2014, we asked for a cruising permit. They told us they didn't give them out at that office and we should get one at the next office.  Seriously? Where's the next office? we asked.  Miami we were told. 

Again, seriously?! They wanted us to cruise all the way to Miami without a permit?!  We insisted on some documentation.  With a shrug, the boarder guard went to his office and came back with a number written on a yellow sticky note and sent us on our way.  We were a little skeptical but really didn't want to argue with the border guard.

We made it to Miami without incident. Once there we called to ask where we could get a cruising permit.  They had quite a different perception of the rules, flipped out and scolded us, telling us we had to get it in Michigan.  Well, too late for that. We phoned around and talked to a lot of people and it seemed everyone had a different story.  Some said we just needed a customs sticker, which we had.  Some said you had to phone in at every port.  We tried and they didn't know what we were talking about.  It was very confusing to say the least and it's a hot topic with foreign flagged vessels cruising in the States.  Everyone has a similar story.

We recently heard through the grapevine that the Customs and Border Patrol (CBP) guys are aware of these loosey-goosey procedures and are tightening up the rules, trying to make it standard across the board, AND are giving out big fines on occasion.  Fines!?  Not good.  We met one Canadian guy who was fined $5000. in Georgia for not having a cruising permit, even though he had been told up North he didn't need one.

We hadn't really worried about it too much since 2014, but after hearing the $5000. fine story we called the CBP again and got the latest scoop (without identifying ourselves).  They indeed are tightening up the rules, trying to make them standard across the board, and enforcing them.  To get a cruising permit and be cruising legally in the States we had to leave the country for fifteen days and get a year-long cruising permit on our return.  We have to do this each year.  Thus:  Our Bahamas trip.

So, this was our mission today.  Get us a cruising permit.  We were nervous as we'd heard all kinds of horror stories about dealing with United States Customs and Border Patrol.

Jeff was still healing from a twisted ankle and we had to cab it to the airport to visit the customs office, so we wanted to pull the boat into a dock and not fuss with the dinghy. We decided to dock at the free dock in West Palm Beach.  There, we could pull Gran Vida right up to the free day-use dock and Uber to the airport.  Easy-breezy.

We set out and noted that the Intracoastal was particularly busy with really big mega-yachts.  Hmm, unusual.  We were waiting in a long line of them to clear the bridge into West Palm Beach.  Once we cleared, HOLY!  They were everywhere, and there were several cop boats with lights flashing.  Absolute Chaos!

It didn't take us long to figure it out.  The West Palm Beach Boat Show was in the process of setting up and we happened to land right in the centre of it all.  The free dock was closed.  Time for a quick plan B.  We had to get to customs by four o'clock.

Palm Beach Boat Show

So, plan B.  I called the Riviera Marina a few miles North of us, explained our situation, with the Captain's twisted ankle and all, and begged for a spot to tie up for a couple of hours. I was promptly refused, told about their dinghy dock ($15.) and without any sympathy at all told "good luck" and hung up on.  Seriously?!.

So, with a few deep breaths to calm my temper down, plan C was in order.  We went back to our anchorage at Lake Worth, and Jeff hobbled to get the dinghy down.  At this point we had no choice.  By now the clock was ticking and we only had about four hours left to get checked in.  We had to get to land.

It was about three or four kilometres to the dinghy dock at Riviera Marina, the marina who had hung up on us.  We got about one km away from the boat, making our way through all the mega-yachts anchored around us, when our dinghy sputtered and quit. Again, seriously?! Jeff, somehow managed to stay calm but the first mate, not so much.  He struggled and got it sputtering enough to limp back to the boat for a quick repair.

While we were struggling with the dinghy, a helicopter flew low
overhead.  We were watching, trying to figure out where he
was going to land.  Seriously?  Right on the back of one of
the mega yachts we were being waked by and trying to avoid in the channel.

The States is such a strange place.  You see the little sail boat with
a homeless person living aboard and a huge, proud American flag.
Then the juxtiposition.
Most mega yachts are permanently docked in the States and owned
by rich Americans, but are flagged by a foreign country, usually the Bahamas,
so they can avoid paying taxes.  The irony doesn't escape us and leaves a sour taste in our mouths.

Jeff cleaned out the filter, fiddled with a few things, and we started off again.  We were now down to three hours before our deadline expired.  The dinghy was still not right and stalled out a few times but we managed to limp and sputter our way through the anchorage.

Then we had to cross the channel coming in from the ocean, with a long line of huge mega yachts streaming in.  Somehow we had to cut across.  If the dinghy quit in the channel between those yachts they very likely would not be able to see us under their bow and we would become a quiet little thud, barely heard over their cocktail music.  It was a scary prospect.  Hand pumping the fuel line, Jeff managed to get the speed up enough to make it across the channel and with hearts pounding, scooted between them.

Safely across the channel we called the marina to get instructions on where we could park our dingy.  Of course, as our luck was going that day, they sent us to the farthest corner of the marina, necessitating a long walk on Jeff's twisted ankle to get to the marina office.  He hobbled over.  Then they wrote up a tag and asked us to walk all the way back to put it on our dinghy.  C'mon!

We called Uber and gave the very kind driver the address of the Customs office at the airport that they gave us.  It did not show on her gps.  There was no "South" Perimeter Road.  How could this be happening?  We double checked and sure enough, we had the correct address, it just didn't exist.  Our very sympathetic Uber driver very patiently drove us around until we found the office, earning herself a big tip.  In our dour mood we reasoned that might be why the U.S. has such a problem with illegal immigrants:  No one can find the flippin' immigration office!!

We made it to the CBP office in the nic of time, rang the buzzer on the outside of the building, waited and waited for service, submitted our passports through a little drawer in a window, they gave it a cursory glance and flipped it back.  We were quickly sent on our way.  For about the tenth time today, SERIOUSLY!?!?  That was it??  All that trouble for a cursory glance at our passport and a rude flip back across the counter.  No cruising permit?  They instructed us to go to a different office on Monday morning to get that.  Another long Uber drive back to the boat -- $26.00 plus tip there and $19.00 back.  Better than some as we talked to other Canadians who had a $60.00 taxi fare one way!

After that adventure, Jeff treated me to lunch at the Marina restaurant.  He saw the "Rum Pail" on the menu and we both figured that was well earned.

A well-earned Rum pail.

The next day, Monday morning, we got into the long line of folks waiting at the CBP office and got our Cruising Permit with very little fan fair.  Maybe we were lucky they were so busy.

Our cruising permit.  Finally, we're legal!!