Yesterday started out with such promise. We had a rental car for a couple of days and had taken care of re-provisioning in the nearby town of Brunswick, Maine. After shopping, we drove south to the Dolphin Point Restaurant and Marina which overlooks Potts Harbour and Casco Bay as we had done last year. My heart’s desire was to again experience a blueberry muffin served with my pasta main course, followed by homemade blueberry pie with ice cream.
During lunch, the conversation turned towards our visas and the fact that we would soon be nearing the end of our 6 month stay on our current visa. We decided to head back to town, turn in the car and return to Vanish on anchor.
Once back onboard, I casually checked my passport and to my horror, saw that my visa had expired on 2 May, 2016. Considering yesterday was 24th June, 2016, I have been living in the USA as an illegal alien for 50 days. No amount of staring at my passport caused the date to change. Next step. Tell Maynard. His eyes became the size of dinner plates before he searched through HIS passport to find that his expiration date was 2 August, 2016. Somehow, when we arrived in the USA on 2 February, 2016, I was given a 3 month visa and Maynard was given 6 months even though we were both standing next to each other. The Officer just smiled pleasantly as he handed back our passports. He probably even said, “Have a nice day (although I’ve just ruined your life).” I simply assumed I was given 6 months and had never bothered to look at the stamp.
Google is good for everything so we googled what to do in the event of an ‘overstay’ in the USA. Many lawyer ads popped up along with information stating that I had better not try re-entering the USA if I had overstayed my visa. Worse, once I had reached an overstay of 180 days, the penalty would most likely be a ban on re-entering the USA for 3 years and possibly 10 years. The more we read, the worse I felt. What would we do if I was deported? Should we just pick up the anchor and head to Canada, now, this minute? But how would I ever get back into the USA? Should I fly home and Maynard find crew to help him bring Vanish back to Georgia? The possibilities and terror were endless. Picturing myself in handcuffs was too grim to imagine.
As we are honest people, we both thought that the best outcome would be to tell the truth and face the consequences. Perhaps we would get lucky and find a kind soul in Customs and Border Protection (CBP). Huh! It seemed an impossible quandary. We’d turned in the car so again we had to leave Vanish on anchor, get into Brunswick to rent a car again, and then drive down to Portland to face the music. We arrived at 9.30 am after not sleeping a good deal of the night.
It’s a good thing that Google Maps knew how to find the CBP as there was no signage whatsoever on their building, nothing, I mean nothing. We walked into the fortress type building and 3 officers approached us, one of them smiling from ear to ear. Well that’s a good sign. We said we were Australians and the Grinning Man laughed and said, “Well CONGRATULATIONS!” He was turning into my hero there and then. I explained my predicament and they all muttered to each other and nodded then asked us if we carried any weapons such as guns and knives and whether we had any identification on us. Oh, and did we have any bushwhackers on us? He was quite a comedian and put us both at ease. We were then sent through a bomb proof door and waited while my information was ascertained. After another half hour the lead officer advised us that although 2 May, 2016 was written in my passport, he had typed in 2 August, 2016 in the computer. It was just a clerical error. The relief for both of us was enormous, just enormous. Our whole lives were flashing before our faces prior to his explanation and now we could continue on our journey. Whew. That was close. Definitely time for a Bex, a cuppa and a lie down.