The Risks of Getting Cheap Oil
We spend a good deal of the next day with
Port Authorities trying to get some fuel. Diesel is scarce and fueling
fancy capitalist's yachts an uncommon occurrence. Too polite to turn us down yet
too scared to allow us some of their precious liquid gold, they find excuses
to stall a decision.
I call our tourist office friends and before we know it their old Lada stops
in front of the Harbor Master's office. I explain the situation and ask for
their support. It works. We are allowed 500 liters of Russian Diesel from
a fuel dock that normally only serves commericial vessels, ocean freighters,
work boats, motorized barges and fishing boats.They all crowding around the
dock waiting their turn. There is no way to find out who is waiting or just
sitting there or who is next to be served. We push our way ever so slowly
towards the pumps living in constant fear that our beautiful, shiny fiberglass
hull will be scratched by the filthy barnacle and oil coated work boats around
us.
When we reach the pump attendant he realizes that their hose diameters are
no match for our fuel fills. It takes another hour to mickey mouse a hose
connector that fits our deck fills. But finally we have our 500liters of diesel.
The prices 10 centavos per liter, so our bill is 50 Pesos. We only have
Dollars or Credit Cards. They want nothing to do with either. They need Pesos.I
send Lucho to the black market where he gets 7 Pesos for a Dollar and half
an hour later we ease our way backward out of a crowd of waiting work boats
of all varieties. It was a lot of work but we had just tanked about 130 gallons
for a little over $7.00.
NA ZDOROVYE !
It is getting dark when we moor the boat. Just as I start preparing some dinner
there is a knock on the hull. It is one of the Russian crew with a note. Written
in good English it is an invitation from the Captain for drinks and hors d'oeuvres
on the bridge.Bill Ruff and I gladly
accept the invitaion; Lucho and Big Ed had other arrangements that evening.
When we climb aboard, there is a royal welcome speech by the Captain
in English with a heavy Russian accent. He wishes to thank us for letting
his engineer copy our x-rated tapes and apologize for the trouble they
caused by rendering the boat unusable for a whole day. Than he offers a toast
to the crew of Stardate, a Russian made champaign..There is balalaika music
in the background and caviar on crackers. Some of the Russians speak good
English and take the opportunity to show off and practice. Where did we come
from, where were we going had we been to Cuba before? We tell them about our
delivery trip to England and our desire to see as much of Cuba as time will
allow. They drag enorous charts up to the bridge to show us where the
marvelously hidden bays, anchorages and beaches are on Cuba's North Coast.
We jot the info down as fast as we can for we don't want to miss out
on any of the delicacies that keep coming from the galley. Between a zip of
a marvelous Bulgarian wine
and a caviar cracker I tell the captain about my surprise to find an
icebreaker in sweltering hot Cuba. He explains: His ship breaks ice on Russia's
North Coast during the Winter to get supplies to the ice and snow bound communities
on that coast. But after the worst cold is gone, the ships will be employed
wherever they are needed, funny bows or not. We all drink to that. Nobody
brings up politics, it is all about friendship and good times. There is genuine
comraderie between the crew members and the captain.
We get showered with zakuski (appetisers) and feel like partying with old
friends. Yet, just hours ago we were total strangers except of course Yuri,
the engineer, who had seized our boat for a day to get his porno flicks.
The miracle worker chef is pulled out of his steaming galley to be applauded
for a great job. What he created is award winning stuff. To accomplish
this in a small, steaming hot ship's galley makes it miraculous. We thank
him for his wonderful piroshkis, kotlety po-Kievski and much more, the names
of those I forgot.The party ends with a final toast back and forth for thanks
and friendship and good weather. We stagger towards Stardate while the Russians
raise a last glass to our health..............Na zdorovye !! A strange feeling
becomes me. Such wonderful people, such incredible friendship and hospitality.
It should last forever, yet we'll probably never see them again...........................
to be continued