Chapter 5

“Do What tomorrow?”

“Strut past the yard in that Wild Weasel swimsuit!” the owner said.

“Why?”

“Look at the crew.”

“So ... they’re working.”

“Yeah. It’s the heat of the day. It must be 40 out,” (40c=104f) he said. “They were lazing around in the shade before you made your entrance.

“Oh. Before I forget. You have several packages at the desk.”

“Yea! Tools!” I took off running.

The office receives mail and UPS freight shipments for the marina along with ground shipped bulk freight for the shop.

I had ordered 4mm marine plywood in 10 foot sheets I also ordered PPG fiber glass, 3l hardener and resin in the pump 40l container.

When I ordered from the wood people they knew right away I was building a boat ... when I said I was a first timer and building a 3.7 Farr, they said they had a kit.

“I don’t want a kit ... I want to build it. I’m going to farm out the frames to a laser shop.”

“We ARE the laser shop.” They said, “240.00 NZ for the frames, stringers and laser cut hull pieces. 4mm hull and 5mm transom. Another 150.00NZ for the glass and resin. You supply the rest.”

“But I might want to build three of them,” I complained... “I have siblings. If I build three I’ll get to use mine.”

“Cut you a deal,” he said, “One thousand dollars.”

“I have American Dollars ... will that do?”

“Yes, Where do we ship?”

“Hobsonville Marina”

“Sure ... free shipping.”

“Can you ship COD?” I asked, explaining, “I won the lottery.”

“Can’t you drive over?”

“Fourteen years old.”

“You’re that American claiming asylum.”

“Yup.”

“Tell you what, I’ll come pick it up.”

“Thank you.”

“Take your time. I’ll have to run out to the boat and pick it up.”

I’d been using the Marina phone and the receptionist looked shocked.

“You keep that kind of money on your boat?”

“Where else?”

“A bank?”

“I don’t drive,” I said. “When I need it I need it now. If it’s in a bank they’ll harass me and want to know why I want it. I’m just a kid ... imagine the hassle.”

“You’re right. I bought a car and wanted to take the money out of my account. They wanted to make me take out a loan.”

“It’s all about the money. If I wasn’t wealthy, Immigration would have treated me like boat people. The Coast Guard would have turned us around ... even if we were sinking. Instead ... we arrived on a multi-million dollar yacht, flying an American flag, requesting pumpout, fuel and shopping ... boat people ... but a different kind.” I said, “Boat people with money. Tourists.”