Egyptian culture can be either frustrating or quaint depending on how you look at it. Well I guess it boils down to; your general tolerance level, if you are in a good mood, your expectations, if you are in a hurry, and if you are already experienced with the system. I sometimes get annoyed, but overall I would say I try to enjoy the moment. One great advantage is that you can collect many entertaining stories to tell. My “Ismailian Diesel Saga” is one such story.

Ismailia is a town situated halfway between Port Said and Port Suez on the Suez Canal. It is very typical Egyptian with virtually no tourism, and we like it a lot. Ismailia is also the mango centre of Egypt and they surrounding country side is very beautiful with all its mango farms. But I digress, this story is about diesel.

Buying yacht diesel is always a small adventure in Egypt. Officially, foreign yachts can only buy taxed diesel (also called transit diesel) which is more expensive than the locally subsidised diesel. This is fair enough but not always so easy. In the Suez Canal you can buy transit diesel through your agent at often a hefty mark-up. This method requires haggling and you often end up feeling tricked but you are not really sure. Two marinas sell transit diesel along the Red Sea coast, Hurghada Marina and Port Ghalib, but even here the situation changes from day to day with the diesel in Hurghada also sold via an agent who is not really interested in selling smaller amounts (i.e. less than 1000 liters or so). In my opinion Port Ghalib marina is the only place that sells diesel in a fair and easy way.

The other alternative is to buy diesel at a standard fuel station in town for the local price of about €0.14 / liter. The problem with this is that it is illegal, and you have to lug jerry cans to and fro the boat.

On our most recent trip up through the Suez Canal I had heard from another yacht that you can now buy diesel in Ismailia the legal way, and without paying any mark-up to an agent. Fantastic I thought - this was just up my alley, so I decided to try it out. d bought diesel legally a few weeks earlier. He had apparently first gone to the customs office to pay the tax, and then to the fuel station who delivered the diesel using a tank on a small motorcycle type vehicle. I had not spoken to the person myself but figured that it all sounded pretty straight forward. Well looking back at it now I guess it wasn’t actually that difficult, but it did take more than half a day and it was quite amusing.

The Yacht Club in Ismailia is an enclosed area with police/immigration guards and a customs office. Every time you walk into town you have to show your passport (and visa stamps) to the guard on duty. They typically don’t really know what they are looking for in the passport, so it is up to you to point out your visa but that is another story. Anyway, since we have been through the canal many times now I have got to know many of the locals and one such person is Mr. Salah who is in charge of the immigration police and sits in a small office by the gate. Well there are actually two men in charge and they both have the same name, Mr. Salah. The evening before I was going on my diesel expedition I stopped buy Mr. Salah (no. 1) for a chat and a cup of tea. I told him about my intentions and asked about the best procedure. He said that I would need to talk to Mr. Mohammed who is in charge of customs the next morning and that the customs office is only open between 8am and 1pm. Mr. Salah’s English is probably about as good as my Arabic so an outsider would have had much fun listening in on our conversation.

Next morning we started out by moving the boat as close to the entry gate as we could get, and alongside to simplify the filling up procedure. I then went over to Mr. Mohammed at customs. He is in charge and his office is often very busy with people coming and going with papers to be signed. I was lucky because this morning was pretty quiet and he was on his own in the office. I sat down and explained that I wanted to buy 400 litres of diesel in town and that I had come to pay the taxes. He said that I would first have to go to the fuel station to get a “fattura” and then come and pay. I had already been to two fuel stations the previous day on my recognisance trip and they said that I should return with a “tax fattura” in order to buy the diesel. He agreed and so once this procedural question was resolved he started the process of making a “tax fattura”. I first had to hand-write a piece of paper stating that I wanted to buy 400 liters of diesel, sign and stamp with our boat stamp. He also wanted a bank withdrawal receipt for the money I was about to pay, and I was lucky to have kept my ATM slip from the day before. He kept the slip together with my statement and a couple of copies of my passport. I was thinking about asking if he also wanted a birth certificate and a bill of sale for the boat but thought better of it. Then came a period of about 30 minutes where a clerk came and went several times to eventually take my payment of $0.49 / litre and produce a small green receipt – on which I insisted they write that it was for 400 litres so that the fuel station would know how much I had paid for, as this seemingly relevant information was missing.

Great! After about 40 minutes I had my “tax fattura” and set out to go to the fuel station. The customs office is inside the immigration control zone so in order to go to town I first had to show my passport as usual. Only, this time the guard saw that I was holding a small green piece of paper in the other hand and asked to have a look. Being nice I showed him the paper (the tax fattura) which he immediately grabbed from me and then started to walk away. I ran after and demanded my receipt back but he kept walking and we ended up in the office of Mr. Mohammed. Discussion now started and the clerk came in, took the receipt and left. I had paid $196 for that paper and I did not want to loose it so I sat down, explained to Mr. Mohammed that I was now angry and wanted my receipt back. To cut a long story a bit shorter I sat there for about 15 minutes until I finally got my receipt back. What that was all about I will never know, but I can’t say that it was my definition of fun.

Finally I was on my way to the fuel station with my “tax fattura”. During my recognisance the previous day I had found a fuel station who would sell me 400 litres at the standard price of 1.20LE plus 100LE for transportation to the Yacht Club so I went straight to them. Only that, now the same guy was not so interested in selling the diesel at the official price and instead wanted 1.50LE per litre. I argued that I had already paid expensive tax for the diesel and was not about to also pay him a mark-up, especially since I was doing all the hard work myself. Well he was pretty unpleasant and after a hefty argument I left and did not really know what to do next as the other fuel station I had been to see was quite clear in that they could not deliver unless I brought my own jerry cans.

I called Elly for some advice and she went up to Mr. Salah. This time it was Mr. Salah no. 2 who was not in the know, but she explained and he understood. Luckily it seemed that he remembered the Dutch boat from a few weeks prior, and he remembered that they had gone to a fuel station a bit further out of town. I ended up walking all the way because I didn’t have any small change and didn’t feel like having an argument with a taxi driver about the correct change for 100LE.

I arrived at the station and found the manager in his office. It turned out that Achmed the owner/manager was a really nice guy and understood exactly what I wanted. Well, I did have a nice drawing I had made to describe the sort of delivery I was hoping for (see below). His brother went off to find the “touk-touk” and came back with good news; the delivery guy would be there in 15 minutes. About 40 minutes later, which I spent with Achmed drinking tea and discussing our favourite action movie actors (a movie was playing on his TV) in a mix of basic English, my basic Arabic words, and lots of hand gesticulations, the delivery guy arrived.

All the trials and tribulations of the moAll the trials and tribulations of the morning were soon forgotten when I went out to look at the delivery van. It was a horse and carriage. Well why not? I thought and ended up getting a pleasant trip (via some narrow back streets to pick up a hose pipe) down to the Yacht Club.

It was now about 4 minutes to 1pm (closing time) and as we arrived at the Yacht Club we had a big welcoming committee with several customs guys and immigration guards taking my “tax fattura” and my fuel station receipt, and walking us down to the boat.

With all the commotion the Yacht Club manager soon came out and joined us, and there was now a new small problem. He would not let us down next to the boat with the horse and carriage because it would dirty the tiles by the club. It is unusual to meet anyone who is actually concerned about keeping anything nice and clean (and free of garbage) in Egypt so we agreed, and soon found an alternative. Next to the yacht club is the tug boat harbour, and me being prepared for all eventualities had noticed earlier in the morning that it might be possible to squeeze in between two tugs. Well we did, but only just. The rest went smooth. The delivery guys did not have any pump but luckily the tug harbour had very high piers so the deck of the boat was actually below the tank so all that was needed was some good old gravity, and the 400 litres were soon transferred with almost no spill on the deck at a total cost of about $0.70 / litre.

April 2011

This is a story about how one thing leads to another, and how in the end you have almost forgotten how it all started. It is something you have all experienced, and something that happens a lot on a boat. Especially if you are picky and meticulous like me.

One day over a month ago I brought out my tiny Canon BJC inkjet printer in order to print a document that I needed to send by fax. Inkjet printers often have a problem with the cartridges drying out if they are not used on a regular basis, and apparently (I now know) the Canon BJC is notorious for this. Being careful I stored the cartridges in tin foil, but alas, this time the printer was not able to squeeze out any dried ink through the nozzles. No problem I figured, because I had a whole bag full of new cartridges. Needless to say, half an hour later, and no more cartridges left to test, I was ready to throw the printer overboard.

A check in a couple of computer shops soon made it clear that the cartridges I needed were no longer stocked, at least not in Egypt. Well, that wasn't all that bad because I had been looking for a good reason to get a new printer for a while, only I had two decisions to make first. One was to decide what to get, an all-in-one inkjet that would also function as a photocopy machine and a scanner, or a mini laser printer (I am a Laser printer fan). But the major decision to make was where to keep it. The Canon was not much bigger than a paperback book so it fit almost anywhere, but the new printer would be much bigger.

When living on a boat you sometimes have plenty of time to spare, and after a few days of thinking and measuring I had solved both problems. Although I wasn't totally convinced that a new inkjet printer would be less prone to dry cartridges I decided that the all-in-one option was the best, as we often need to photocopy boat papers and passports. And by doing some major carpentry work I could actually create a whole new cupboard/shelf with plenty of space for a printer and other things as well.

Said and done. Before I could count to ten I had bought a big sheet of 15mm plywood and a new printer, and the project had started. I removed and cut some existing paneling by the chart table, cut some new boards and was well on the way of having the perfect new shelf when I realized that in that same area was and old lingering project of it's own. Namely the gate stanchions for the guardrail, which where bent, badly installed and in need of a total change. My dilemma was now that if I went ahead and completed the shelf I would really block out access to get into the counter bracket for one of the gate stanchions. After a quick reflection I decided to put the shelf project aside for a "short bit" and start on a new project. Fixing the stanchions.

As things turned out, the stanchion/guardrail project turned into a 3 week project because of several reasons, the main one being that I had to send some stainless steel rods to the local welding shop three times before they got it right. Anyway, all is well that ends well, and having completed the side project I was very pleased. The stanchions are now polished, straight, and much better supported than they were previously. And on top of that I also fixed a few small water leaks, so I would judge it as a complete success.

By now I had almost forgotten about the shelf, but with the guardrails out of the way I could carry on where I had started a few weeks earlier, and that's where we get to the Maglite. By removing and cutting the paneling for the new shelf I had to remove the charger base for my beloved Maglite (they are not cheap, but very powerful) and was now faced with a new dilemma - where to place the Maglite. Time to put the thinking hat on. In the end, and in true Per fashion, I settled for the most complicated solution - but also the best one. By moving the hand-phones for the VHF and the loudhailer, and the pen holder by the chart table I had created a new useful little corner where I could build yet another small shelf with space for more pens, an extra compartment for business cards, and space for the Maglite charger. Brilliant.

So by deciding to print a document, I set the ball in motion, and was after a few weeks the proud owner of a new printer (400 EGP), two new totally custom built shelves (500 EGP for wood, varnish, and screws), vastly improved stanchions and an order for 50m of new guardrail with new turnbuckles from England (500 GBP). Not the cheapest printout in the world.

February 2009

When you are cruising you really don't need a TV, you already have the worlds best TV (I was going to say it is for free, but first there is the boat, then diesel, then a new pump, a new cleat ... but sorry I am digressing).

Anyway, in a boat cockpit you have a 360 degrees TV with ever changing channels. Omnimax with surround can't even compete.

Here are a few channels we have been watching lately:

Channel 2
In a secluded bay SE Samos island surrounded on three sides by a beach, a few small houses and a taverna. Lots of stuff going on. On the left side we have the house with a parrot. In this is one cool parrot. In the morning he is copying a rooster, actually a pretty funny alarm clock. Later on he is rambling on about all and nothing. On the right hand side is the fishing shelter where captain Yannis (that's what we called him) feeds the cats at 17:00 hours. Amusing to watch the pecking order of the cats. First the boss, then his lieutenants and first wives, then the lesser ranks, and of course Bricky who is late and has to rush over from the monastery garden further up the road. In the middle is the little taverna where one night live music starts at around 19:00 hours with real Greek bozuka. The taverna fills up when a tripper boat arrives with a full load of tourists that get to enjoy a memorable evening.

Channel 12
Naxos harbour comfortably tied up against the outer jetty. The wind is very strong, a few boats are moored up stern-to a finger pontoon - and here is the cruisers favorite channel - a boat arrives and messes up totally with his mooring. After an hour and a half one unmanned boat is now loose and lying along the outer edge (after much work from local boaters with one guy even going to the chandlery to buy some more fenders). Two boats have had to re-anchor after their anchors were pulled up. And the newly arrived boat is finally in, but sideways and with an extra line across a local fishing boat.

You switch channels when you lift the anchor or leave the mooring, and sometimes the program almost seems too good to leave.

PS We do have a TV on board and have used it twice over the last year and a half. Once for the World Cup final in 2006 (pain watching France loose), and once for the 2006 Eurovision song contest (but promise not to tell anyone about that)

July 2007

3 golden rules about sailing

Using precise observations and applied logic I have come up with 3 very important rules about sailing: 

1. Wind
   
   The wind automatically turns to originate from your target position regardless of your current position.
   
   This sounds complicated but it is really quite simple. The minute you make a route and enter a waypoint (target position) on your chart plotter, the wind is somehow informed about this and starts to blow in a funnel shape from that waypoint. The funnel shape ensures it to remain straight on your bow even if you turn a bit to gain wind.
   
   You are basically left with a few options as to what to do about it:
   
   a) tack against your target and end up covering a distance much greater than all those cousins out there on motor yacht – this might not always be successful depending on the size of the funnel the wind has decided on, if it is really big you will simply end up tacking back and forth on the same line and not actually getting anywhere
   
   b) take down the sails, switch on the engines and spend some of that hard earned cash on diesel – this is the surest way of getting to your target and is probably what the wind was hoping you would do
   
   c) same as option b but keep the sails up so that it appears to other boats as if the rule does not apply to your boat – so you give in to the wind without having other sailors find out about it
   
   d) if you really want to outsmart the wind you can either enter a “fake” waypoint on your chart plotter and then simply sail in the opposite direction to your real (but secret) target, or not enter any waypoint at all and instead make them up as you go along, always with the wind in the best position
   
   Addition to the wind rule
   The rule never seem to apply to any of the other sailing boats around you that are happily sailing along in seemingly the same direction.
   
   
2. Ropes
   
   If a rope can get stuck or tangled in something, it will. (This also applies to water hoses)
   
   This rule is pretty straight forward. Haven't we all tried to outsmart the rule to see if there isn’t at least a slight chance that it might not always apply. When was the last time, for example, that you pulled the hose over from one side of the boat to the other, hoping that for some strange reason perhaps this time it will not hook on to that cleat, boat hook, winch, etc.
   
   In the early days of sailing they were actually very close to solving the problem by breaking the rule once and for all. They simply started to call all ropes something else - things like halyards, sheets, warps, lanyards, hawsers, painters etc. It worked for a while, more precisely between 1534 until 1538, but then nature had smartened up and knew that a rope is a rope no matter what it is called. The rule then decided to get even tougher and started to apply to hoses of all types as well.
   
   
   
3. Chafing
   
   If not controlled, chafing will increase the level of destruction by the power of three.
   
   When classified by degree of "annoyingness" this rule is in par with rule number 2. The best way of describing the rule is to give an examples of my own:
   
   After having moored up in a marina the other day, with lazy lines and in virtually no wind, we decide to check out the town. Upon returning a few hours later we notice that the wind has picked up and the boat is now around 30cm closer to the concrete jetty and the dinghy is getting squeezed and chafed against the jetty. Luckily this had not been going on for too long and no damage had been done, so I move the dinghy over to the side of the boat and tie it up. A little bit later I see that the black rubber handle has now been rubbing against the side of the boat, leaving a big patch of black rubber marks. Ok no problem I say to myself, so I take a line from the stern of the dinghy and tie it to the pier so that the dinghy no longer touches either the boat or the pier. Next day we leave and I am all happy that the chafing rule had not caused any real damage. - I see what you are thinking now, but no, I did remember to remove the extra line to the dinghy - Later on that same day while on anchor I try to start the outboard engine. I say try because obviously it won't start. After the basic checks I discover that the fuel hose from the tank to the engine now had a hole in it due to chafing by the line I so nicely rugged the day before to keep the dinghy from the boat.

June 2007

It is now official. Fake goods are now classified as either "genuine fake" or presumably just plain fake.

I was approached by a tout when we left the truly genuine ancient site of Ephesus a few days ago, and he was proudly pointing to his store sign which said in big letters "Genuine Fake Watches" while asking if I wanted to buy some. Well truth be said, he actually first asked where I was from. This is now a classical conversation starter by 98% of all store owners in both Turkey and Egypt (and probably countless other countries as well). Once you feel singled out and know that the tout is actually interested in you and where you are from, you are bound to get interested in anything from a fake ancient coin (apparently made by letting a standard coin circulate through a goat a few times) to a leather cap (which I never see anyone wearing), carpets, watches, T-shirts and much more. Well this is all part of the experience of frequenting the typical tourist trails.

The Ephesus shop owner was at least honest about the fact that the watches were fake. The same cannot be said about the tourist board of Cesme who in their tourist brochure say:

Shopping at Cesme
The market place of Cesme is held on Sundays; even if you do not plan to buy anything, you should see around the bazaars held in the street. You can find any kind of food and drinks in this bazaar besides the clothing materials. It is possible to buy the known brands at reasonable prices.

So remember next time when you buy that fake YSL handbag, Adidas T-Shirt,  Prada shoes, or Heinz baked beans be vigilant and make sure that it is in fact genuinely fake. After all, who wants to have second rate fake stuff.

June 2007

One interesting reflection I made the other day while browsing through a few back street hardware stores in a small Turkish town was that the biggest selling item seems to be hose pipes.

You will often find mounts of different types and color hoses lying outside the shops. And they do sell. I say that because you often come across men (always men, and often middle age) leisurely carrying a roll of 25mm ribbed orange garden hose while boarding a bus, or see a Toyota pickup truck drive by with a bed load of 5inch sanitary hose to mention a few examples. 

The same thing goes for Egypt, and here is the crux, Egypt is not exactly a country abundant in running water, so you start to wonder what all these different types of hose pipes are actually used for.

I am especially interested in finding out what they are used for because I have to admit that I have on several occasions sort of gone with the flow and ended up buying a variety of hose pipes myself. Once, for example, I found myself haggling over a roll of uneven hose pipe in Safaga, Egypt, and another time I end up having big problems getting back to the boat on the folding bicycle with the backpack overfull with a kind of ribbed black hose pipe in Naxos, Greece.

Being inventive I have actually used some of my hose pipe stock. 10mm transparent pipe is good to blow out stuck jelly fish from water in take strainer.  12mm soft rubber pipe is good to cut alongside and put on the pulpit as protection from the anchor. 8mm pipe is also good to cut alongside and use as protection on shrouds. I will report back here when I figure out other good uses. Meanwhile I am off to the local hardware store to see if they have any new cool hose pipes.

June 2007