Chapter 22

One of the things I did AFTER Mr. Nakamura left the boat was unplug the power from the ball. I wasn’t smelling burning wiring or fried electronics ... but I wasn’t taking any chances. One of the idiosyncrasies of Nationals is they expect THEIR power solutions are universal.

They’re not.

The home improvement store was exactly what I needed. NZ shore power is 230V at 50cps, Japan shore power is 100V at 50/60cps. New Zealand equipped boats cannot use Japanese electric. However, Marine Gen and Alt is 12V DC ... car battery power ... or rigged in series ... golf cart batteries ... golf cart batteries are generally 6 volt. I could run 12 volt with no problem but I would have to run the GENSET and that would use diesel. Diesel costs money.

Sure ... I’m rich ... always have been. Cyn has big bucks, too. But Waste Not Want Not. Lessons learnt at mothers knee ... yup.

I like ice cream ... I like it at odd times ... stores aren’t always open when I want it. I keep ice cream in the freezer ... when plugged into shore power. At sea I forgo the treat. Propane freezers work on gas ... and our onboard freezer is tri-powered ... house current, 12v and propane.

Propane explodes, all it takes is a spark ... nope ... ain’t worth the risk.

So ... while my heathens were running amok devastating store counters and clothing racks, I took cash to the big box store and consulted. There I found just what I needed ... a Japanese Electrician who specialized in boat application. His English was better than my Japanese.

Since Zotilla the Hun and her cohort had been pillaging my card for only 2 hours, I invited Bill ... hey ... no way was I going to ruin my throat pronouncing the real thing ... to the boat ... to look.

At the boat landing the man saw the dinghy.

“Ah so ... CIA.”

I am telling you ... the only people who don’t know what that narrow RIB represents ... is the CIA.

Bill liked the Sailbait. As he dug into the electronics and electrics he kept nodding, smiling and writing in a notebook ... page after page. Finally satisfied, he closed the book, grinned and said, “I can fix.”

Digging himself out of the engine compartment, he said, “Won’t be cheap. But it will solve your power problems.”

By sheer luck or happenstance, I met the one man in Japan who could pull this off. I wonder what he’ll do.

As he stepped aboard the RIB he said it again, “Ah so ... CIA.”

I took him back to the big box store.

“A week, maybe two, I need time to consult.”

I found Malcolm.

“Where?”

He pointed in the general direction of a line of small shops.

“Save me?” he asked.

“That bad?”

“Once I got over sticker shock, it got better ... do women’s clothes cost that much?”

“Surprise paid 430NZ for a pair of jeans.”

Scrunching up his eyes doing the math, “Forty seven thousand yen. For jeans. I nearly passed out at 3600 yen for a skirt.”