Crtd 06-02-07 Lastedit 15-10-27

Monday

I slept with my two security guards, simply villagers with a panga and my heavy torch, mainly watching over my anchors.
In the morning, saa moja, I brought my boys to the saw mill which experienced a power cut.

Photo: the new building site

Photo: Pickup now hardware and tool store as well as micro camper. Note 230V coffee grinder operating on converter and espresso cooker on paraffin gaz. The is Water Boiling method WBM 2.0 (go to WBM 0.1, WBM 0.2, WBM 1.0). My espresso coffee is now well above Mwanza top quality

Photo: Happiness

Wind theft incident: I lost money on the ground, a boy returned part, but left TSh 30 000 in his pocket, his uncle helped us to retrieve it, which started a feud between the father and the uncle (details)

Tuesday  The saw mill has power. We plane the deck planks and put linseed inside the dhow..
I remove my remaining boxes from Isamilo with a four wheel drive and put them in a saw mill container. The 4WD is of The African Inland Church. The director wants TSh 15 000/= (half a month average Tanzanian wage) per trip. Since that fortune makes euro 20, I resign in being milked as a mzungu.
Now, I had finally fully reached the shore of lake Victoria, with my pickup, my motorcycle, my dhow and all my  possessions, ready to live in the dhow as soon as we would have a floor and a deck.

Photo: wood for deck planks bought late. Fast drying at the saw mill

The Continuing Story Of Mr. Fat's Harbour Shop, Part 3: In the evening there is football: Egypt plays Senegal on TV. I watch at Mwanza Yacht Club. I share a couch with my fellow member Mr. Fat. Known from summoning me to his customs office (Part 2, I did not go). Mr. Fat raises the subject again: my clearing papers are not good, I should come to his office.
But Noel, how do you know my papers are not good? You have not seen them. But since you raise this subject for the second time in the club, I will consult our commodore what to do.
Noel has no problem.

Wednesday 8 Feb
The Continuing Story Of Mr. Fat's Harbour Shop, Part 4: I call MYC commodore Munisi. Noel is good friend of him. We shall meet at 7 at MYC.
I visit the immigration office to have my papers checked. They feel incompetent. I should go to the office of the Tanzanian Revenue Authority (TRA). At TRA I am told that my pickup clearing has expired. Motorcycles should have a clearing paper, but it is free. I should go to Sirari, 300 km, the border with Kenya, renew my pickup clearing and ask a free clearing paper for my motorcycle. TRA thinks the Tanzanian Mutukula  border customs officers had been too lazy to give me, on entry to Tanzania with my motorcycle, the clearing paper for it because it does not yield them any money.
At 7 I enter MYC and see Mr. Fat on my way before I meet Munisi. No doubt, they had talked already. So I apologize to Mr. Fat: he had been right, my papers were not OK. I explain that I had become suspicious by the way he had approached me. That I had started to get information about him, which was not good, probably bad informers, I haste to say, we agree quickly. Mr. Fat proposes a solution different from TRA, one involving his little shop in the harbour: putting pickup and motorcycle on a Uganda ship to unregister there, and return by ship for a permanent import. Of course I am determined not to leave a shilling in his pocket on the issue but tell him to think about it. The next day I call him to tell my ship builders need me so I will do a quick one day trip to Sirari, the border with Kenya, to renew my clearing. Mr. Fat sounds disappointed (for the index of all "Mr. Fat" occurrences click here).

Wednesday 8 Feb  The Wind theft incident comes back to life: the uncle is harassed and being demanded TSh 15 000/=. He stands near our job for hours. Waiting (details). Now there are attempts to squeeze money out of my pocket from four sides: Kamkala, Mr. Fat alias Noel, the Haman family in the local village, and the "marine vessel inspectors".
This day, we work at the steering deck.
Now my boxes have left my Isamilo room, I bring the keys to the Kamkala "ship yard" (a fenced part of the quay with two containers). Only Gerald is there. He signs for receiving the keys. I mail link and login of the Kamkala Soap Index Page to Kees.

Photo: this bird found a friend in my car mirror. Not only he is on his way to establish a durable relationship. His friends copied his behaviour and after three days now all my mirrors, both of car and pickup, are covered with their white droppings

Thursday
We buy the sail cloth, see Making the Sail (coming),  and the wood for mast and gaff, see Making mast and gaff.

The marine vessel inspection is carried out. I get a host of questions on weather and fire safety, but the most important lake danger: government officers and other pirates, is carefully avoided. My 105 year old lake map is approved. They probably saw this map, the only one available, for the first time. According to their official government tonnage and volume formula I can carry 48 passengers. They refuse to agree that such would be very dangerous. I fear their tariff table is based on that entry. They offer me very clumsy and expensive life rafts for sale, I say I'll think about it. I showed them I knew the former and present marine superintendent's first and last names and called them my best personal friends in Mwanza. This makes them ready to register me as a freight ship (TSh 83 000) as opposed to a passenger ship (TSh 250 000). Private yachts are unknown in their tariff list. I have to give two names, they will choose the name. I give Saa Moja, (one o'clock Kiswahili time, 7:00 hrs, roughly sunrise) and Saa Moja Na Dakika Kumi Na Tano (fifteen minutes past 7). I explain the inspectors I threaten my workers to give the boat the second name if they report too late too often in the morning. The inspectors choose for Saa Moja.  I do not have the money and promise to pay tomorrow morning at their office. After they left I am told they thought I was going to give them some pocket money but that Gabriel prevented me from doing so. Anyway, my superintendent connections had made them loose the courage to ask for it. Anyway not unkind but deadly incompetent little thieves. Another team of Mzungu milkers out of the way.

We still work on the steering deck..