Boat Yard Blues

If Dante had owned a yacht, he would have made boat yards one of the levels of hell. Grenada Marine is carved out of the lush jungle and thus is prime real estate for mosquitos, no-see-ums and see-ums. You can carbon date a stranger’s time in the boat yard based on their number of bug bites. Five per leg per day is my rough calculation.
The boatyard’s customs agent is a bozo. To bring in parts for the boat you must leave them at the airport so they can collect a 2.5% tax. This creates little revenue but has created much consternation. I will skip the speech on the merits of government. The customs agent told us the bag would stay at the airport for only one night but we are now hoping the bag will arrive day four
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Our projects have gone well and we are ready to splash in the morning. We hired the yard to clean the decks but they went a bit too far. They removed the cover for the instruments and hosed them down. This is not a great combo and now a screen has a water droplet trapped inside. One step forward and two steps backwards in the boat yard. We must achieve escape velocity or we will be trapped in the un-numbered level of hell.

Did I just complain about our great life/ Oops. Sorry, as I am sure work, traffic etc, gave everyone enough headaches today.