January 10, 2012

Much to our amazement, the new chainplates are made and the replacement is installed! (The second one is a spare for the opposite side. That looks fine now, but it is better to be prepared in case there is a symbiotic or symmetrical failure.)

What an adventure! At breakfast, Lauren offered up a prayer that we would be able to get the parts made in due time. Well, did we ever. We hit the dinghy dock at about 8:00, registered for the mooring we are on, and then parted ways, Lauren to clean up and come back to Gratitude for a morning of relaxation, and me for a morning of adventure. First stop was to the metal shop, which was located in the heart of “industrial Miami” on the NW side of the airport. (I am convinced one could have anything made in this territory. It is an amazing array of industrial buildings with little warrens of shops, tool and die places, metal fabricators, furniture manufacturers, etc.) The “metal store” turned out to be open air, a bit more sophisticated than what one may find in Africa or the Middle East, but open air just the same. The most modern aspect was the little butcher shop “take a number” dispenser. When my turn came, I showed them the old chain plate and they cut me two new blanks from low carbon #316 stainless steel. When he inspected the old chainplate, the gentleman said there was no pitting or crevice corrosion; it looked like electrolysis. Not sure how that happens because all the rigging is metal and it is grounded at various locations. The owner of the shop said he had “seen all kinds of strange things on boats, for which there really is no explanation.”

From there, it was just a few short blocks to the machine shop where the blanks were drilled and the above-deck end rounded (less of an ankle killer). When I arrived, I was told the boss was out, having “gone to get some wood or something.” About ½ hour later, a Mercedes showed up and out climbed the owner and his wife. It turns out they are Russian immigrants, having come to this country about 37 years ago. We discussed the requirements, he quoted a price (about which I could not say much as I was at his mercy), and he assigned the task to a thorough craftsman working in a very disorderly shop. It was fun watching him measure, use his tools and computer aided equipment (for precise centering of the holes), and little brush of lubricant to keep the bits from burning. After paying the bill (which would have been negotiated lower had I paid in cash – which I was reserving for the circumstance I could not use a credit card), Oleg printed a map to show the route to the polisher’s shop, which was on the other end of the airport and sent me on my way.

As on the first leg, I took a taxi because I did not know the public transportation routes and I did not want to miss the opportunity to get the parts for the cost of saving fare. The second driver was Haitian (the first knew only hard acceleration and hard braking) and, between his dispatch radio and the blaring music and Creole discussions, we had a hard time communicating. We drove past the designated street, but a U-turn brought us right back. The polisher said he could do the job tomorrow. I expressed dismay as I had come a long way and really hoped it could be done today. He said “it will take an hour” and I said “I’ll wait.” He was somewhat exasperated, but said I should go somewhere until 1:30 (a bit over an hour) and I asked directions to the nearest Home Depot. After doing my shopping there, and walk through a marine supply store, I got back to the polishing shop a bit after 1:00. The owner said “I told you to come back at 2:30; it is not ready.” I did not argue, but said I would wait. I saw the pieces being polished and I knew this was my penance for barging into his day. About 1:15, he called me over to see the parts, which I exclaimed were beautiful (see old and new chainplate photo). He quoted a price, I asked “check or credit card?” and he said “cash”, so it was a good thing I harbored what I had. I paid him and he thanked me for my patience, saying most people would not wait. I thanked him for his patience, for my intruding on his day. How we got there, I do not know, but he told me of his having lived in Brooklyn, I told him my Grandfather lived in Brooklyn, and we were off, sharing stories. (I am sure I would have had a better price had that conversation started earlier.) He wished me well, gave me extra business cards, and told me how to get back via the bus.

En route back to the marina, I stopped at another (great!) marine supply store (Crook and Crook, whose motto on the side of their building is “We try not to live up to our name!”). I caught the 3:00 tender and was back on Gratitude by 3:15. After a bit of office work, Lauren and I worked to install the new chainplate, which was completed before dinner. (We also re-caulked the parallel plate on the other side of Gratitude because that area had exhibited some leaking.)

Although there were a few frustrating moments, in all, the day was a huge success and really quite interesting. The people I met, the observation of the number of ways and places people make their livings, and the shear fact that two new chainplates were custom made in a day – at about the same cost as ready-made ones (if we ignore the transportation cost) was a delight. Now, we do some final provisioning, top off water tanks (which is where all this started), and ready ourselves for the crossing. We have been listening to Chris Parker, the weather guru for the Bahamas the last several mornings, and it looks favorable in the next few days. Here’s hoping – or praying!