Crawling Along

Jazz remains sick. Wind remains light.

Samoan officials apparently asked our agent for an English translation of our COVID tests. They are in French, but there is an English translation of every line right directly below. Our agent apparently didn’t bother to look either, and forwarded the question to our land email which we’ve told them we don’t have access to. Fortunately we asked her a different question from our satellite address, and she remembered it existed and asked the dumb question again.

Actually, this is the agent’s assistant, because our agent just left for his annual month-long leave, right as the country is reopening. Not that he was super helpful before he left. At one point Andrew called him after emails went unanswered, and his excuse was that another boat had shown up without any notice and made them scramble. They screw you, so you pass it along? Come on now. “Superyacht Services” indeed.

Just in case anyone is wondering where all the time goes. On top of living without all the modern conveniences like dishwashers, laundry machines, infinite running water and power, delivery services, a mailing address… It’s also days and days of back and forth with the best and brightest minimum wage small-town officials to get in and out of every island, in a structure designed top -down exclusively for air travel.

Despite frustrations, it’s a beautiful day at sea. Blue skies, light waves, and nobody else in any direction. 184 miles to Apia.