How not to clear in and out
Annie! Welcome to Grenada, we are all waiting for you!’
Annie and I sailed past the South coast and turned to starboard, tacking for the first time in 42 days, towards Annie’s new home: St George’s Bay. Half a mile out, an officer on a police launch came up behind shouting ‘Put some bloody clothes on!’ I’d forgotten I’d been naked for four weeks.
Annie raced into the harbour and a large RIB came up behind with my best mate Brian onboard. ‘What are you doing here?’ I asked. ‘I’m with her,’ he said, pointing to my wife, Louise, who I hadn’t spotted.
The landing, the greetings, the landlegs, the first beer and the best burger in the world all passed in a dream, but I knew one thing: I had made it! Though delighted to have been made an Honorary Commissioner of the Sea Scouts, it was time to go home. Then I realised I hadn’t cleared in. I went with Scoutmaster Elisha St Louis to the immigration office at the marina. A strict-looking lady took Annie’s details and asked: ‘What time did you land?’ ‘About 1220,’ I replied. ‘But it’s only 1130.’ ‘Yes, but I arrived two days ago.’
‘You can’t leave Grenada if you haven’t arrived!’
She woke up the snoozing chap next to her. ‘Who’s he?’ I asked. ‘He’s the officer who hands out fines.’
‘Where have you come from?’ he asked. ‘The Canary Islands’ ‘Never heard of them, where are they?’ ‘Near Africa’ ‘Who owns them?’ ‘Spain’ ‘Right. Can I see your leaving documents?’
‘Sorry’ I said, ‘I haven’t got any.’ ‘How did you leave?’ ‘I just sailed away.’
Dead silence. ‘You can’t come into Grenada without leaving somewhere!’ ‘Sorry,’ I said, ’do you want me to do it again?’
Luckily, Annie and I were still being treated like rock stars and a swift call to His Excellency Joslyn Whiteman (the former High Commissioner in London) cleared up the matter.