After a much-needed night’s sleep, it was time to officially tackle the bureaucracy. The only problem? Despite asking officials three times, no one had actually told me the clearance itinerary. The only hard timeline I had was that Biosecurity would meet us on the fuel dock at 9 AM, so we pointed the PC52 there and hoped for the best.
To be fair, the actual officials were reasonably smooth, and we cleared in efficiently. However, the subsequent logistics were an absolute marathon. We had so much to do before the final leg, and the endless loop of form filling, visiting offices, going to the ATM, going back to the ATM (repeat), waiting for people to come and collect or drop off forms was seriously pushing my patience.
Go to the Ministry of Works and find Josephine to pay the harbour dues.
Take that receipt to Customs to get the duty-free application form.
Take the application form to be officially stamped.
Finally, give a copy of the whole mess to the marina office to authorize the pump.
Josephine was the gatekeeper. She was extremely thorough, and had to enter all our vessel details into a large ledger, including the receipt number of the payment I just made to her.
Outwardly, I was smiling, but inside, I was turning green and about to burst out of my pants. Then I made my huge mistake: I asked her if she couldn't simply complete the ledger after I had left.
She slowly looked up, closed the ledger, walked to the window, and said, "I beg your pardon?" I repeated the question, and she patiently explained that no, she has to do the ledger now because this is the way she has always done it. The process then slowed to a beautiful crawl as she couldn't find the correct page, lost the receipt, and likely misplaced her quill and parchment.
Amidst the bureaucratic torture, we managed to get the hull cleaned—essential for both fuel efficiency and to meet Biosecurity regulations in Australia.
We also had to move the boat from the fuel dock to a secure wall, which involved a tricky stern-to maneuver. Add to that the provisioning, boat cleaning, and all the other necessary tasks involved with moving 35 tons across the sea with three people on board (POB). It’s exhausting, but with the weather window ticking away, we have no choice but to push through.
After what felt like an eternal morning of office visits, form submissions, and patiently waiting for the Josephines of the world, we were finally ready. At 12:30 PM, we moved the boat onto the fuel dock for the second time, having officially completed all the necessary clearance processes—even though our third crew member hadn't physically arrived in the country yet! (That's a testament to the power of forward planning, or perhaps just stubborn persistence.)
The final step wasn't without its own drama. As the pump started running, I was confidently told that they had already put 800 liters into one of the tanks. Given the time it took to be pumped in and the readings I can see on board that seemed high. I had to subtly point out that there was a decimal point, and the actual number was closer to 80 liters. A slight difference!
With the tanks full of duty-free fuel, the final paperwork secured, and the third crew member finally onboard, we could finally get moving. We pulled away from the dock, put Port Vila on the horizon behind us, and are now officially heading out into the mighty Coral Sea for our final run to Queensland.
The clock is ticking on that approaching weather system, so the next few days will be a steady push, but for now, the overwhelming feeling is one of relief and forward motion.